[There's a long pause on his end. SOLDIER doesn't by and large have the ability to get drunk once they were fully enhanced. Cloud, stripped of his enhancements and apparently taking advantage of that fact, is now an exception.]
Officially, no, that kind of thing would end with a trail of destruction a mile wide and is frowned upon.
[Officially. Is Cloud too unsober to read between the lines?]
Sephiroth isn't normally capable of getting drunk. None of us are. Why don't you get some sleep, and I'll try to remember everything I can that you might find interesting about Sephiroth in the meantime.
Alright then. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, come down to the kitchens. I'll make you something that'll help with the side effects you'll be feeling and we can talk then.
['Bright and early' he knows will be 'whenever Cloud can scrape himself off the floor'.]
Do you have a friend to stay with tonight? Zack maybe?
You're right, I don't think I should. He'll be very jealous, and we can't have that.
[So who else, then? Someone needed to keep tabs on Cloud, obviously. Sephiroth might, he seemed fond of him in his own bizarre way. What about the vampire?]
Yes, you're fine, but spending your time alone while drunk is a waste of a good buzz. You should find a friend and see for yourself. Besides, I've known Zack for a long time. The only thing that would disappoint him is he wasn't invited along.
Why not? You're Zack's friend, right? N' me too, so...we should be friends too. Besides, we're uh....Buster sword...buddies. Buster buddies. Ha.
[Since when?]
I like card games. Pretty much any games. Haven't played any in...a while. But--
[He pauses and someone else says something further from the communicator. He puts it down and says something back, and a minute or so goes by where he's having some conversation. And then...more time goes by. Did he...did he forget he was in the middle of a call?
It looks like you and I are paired for the month. Do you need anything? [Avalon knows they should say something else, considering they have no idea who Angeal is, but their mind is blank. After a moment of staring into the camera, no obvious expression on their face, they cut the feed.]
[He does seem cooperative.] My name is fine. If you would like to meet in person, I can do that.
My job is to keep you from harming anyone. I have no access to your file, so this can be anything you want. [They see themself as more of a partner than a superior.]
I think I would. If we'll be working together for a little while, it's best to have each other's measure, don't you think?
[Something Avalon says seems to amuse him, but he hides the smile back under sobriety quickly.]
Unless I'm attacked, I'm not going to harm anyone willingly. I don't think I have access to my file either, so I can't offer it, but maybe I can answer any questions you have.
[They notice the flicker of amusement, but have no idea what caused it.] I think a common room would be a good place to meet. [They would rather not let a random person into their cabin, and immediately violating his privacy seems ill-advised.] Any level would work for me, though I believe one of the Level 5 common rooms has had its couch stolen.
Your permanent warden would be the one needing to look into your past, not me. This is only temporary, so I am more here for you than the other way around. For example, if you need something from home, I may be able to get it for you. [Rawne waited for them to ask for their powers back. They plan to do the same.]
I understand that you may not have arrived with access to everything you can usually do, but information about any abilities you have would be useful. [They end the video and make their way to common room.]
[It's a reasonably short trip for Angeal, so he's already there waiting; the addition of a video at least kept the guesswork out of wondering who's coming, and when Avalon appears, he stands (not that he'd been sitting long, not enough time for that) quickly, and offers a hand.
Are handshakes universal? He doesn't know.]
Angeal Hewley. How exhaustive a list do you need for capabilities?
Avalon has what looks like a large marble out when they arrive, tiny streaks of teal swirling over its surface. As they close the door behind them, they drop the orb back into the small bag hanging from their belt.
They approach Angeal and shake his hand, their grip firm enough. “Avalon.” They pause for a moment, considering explaining their lack of a last name, but decide against it. “I would like to know what you can do with your current limitations, since I cannot remove any of them.”
He'd heard of Warden items.. maybe that marble was one. It reminded him a bit of materia, but surely was not. "Hm."
So far, nothing seems out of sorts with this stranger. They seemed reasonable enough, and if they didn't want to give him any other names, then that was their right. "As far as I can tell, only my stamina and resilience remain intact by way of enhancements, but the Admiral has done nothing to curb my training. I've been well versed in combat for many years and specialize in hand to hand fighting. There are few foes I've faced that I can't handle barehanded; I know as many nonlethal means of subduing opponents, human and otherwise."
Like so many in the Barge, likely. "Before arriving here I was a career SOLDIER. If there's a weapon analogous to what exists on my planet, then I'll likely know how to use it, possibly repair it." His smile is brief and humorless. "I'm not likely to use any of it on anyone without express invitation or being attacked."
Their actual Warden item is clasped around their wrist and looks almost like a regular watch. The only difference is that, instead of a clock face, “Level 4 common room” is written on the bracelet’s panel.
“As I understand it, the Admiral can do nothing to curb your training. If you were to use it to harm someone, or if someone were to harm you, the consequences would be focused on physically preventing it from happening again.” They could make him unable to touch weapons, or make him intangible if he were to attack someone. His superhuman stamina and resilience could be removed if needed, but he does seem to be telling the truth about the likelihood of using his abilities for harm. He seems level-headed, and not in the emotionless way that Avalon was when they arrived.
“Would any of those enhancements have affected your mind?” In their world, almost every form of supernatural abilities also has negative effects on the person’s emotions. His world could have created something similar.
Maybe one day he'll find out. How secret were those items? There's no immediate response to Avalon's reasonable follow up question, rubbing the scruff of beard on his chin in thoughtfulness.
His mind was absolutely affected until arriving here, but was it the SOLDIER process, or what was done to him at conception? "No," is the slow conclusion, which does imply something else did. "I don't think so. Most SOLDIERs never have any trouble at all, and those who might tend to get washed from the program before they're enhanced. A certain level of strength of will and mind is a requirement."
If he asks, they might tell him. As far as they know, the items are neither a secret nor a regular topic of conversation.
Avalon picks up on the implication behind Angeal’s response, but his explanation seems to complicate it. “Did anything happen after you were enhanced?”
They should avoid digging too deeply into this, but they could be able to help. And without further explanation, they have no way of knowing if it would be their place to do so.
There's another pause as he considers the answer; honesty never hurts with even a temporary warden but thinking about it all too long was ... upsetting. "Possibly. I was born with ... certain ... vile abilities that cause degradation, a rot in body, soul and mind if used."
And that, by tone and bearing, is very much uncomfortable to dwell on. "I've been cured of it, near as I can tell, but it's possible the process damaged my mind at the time as much as it did the others. I can't say in retrospect how many of my actions before I was killed were because of degrading or ... purely my own decisions. I've assumed til now that it was likely, and thus why I was offered this chance instead of simply forced to be here."
They recognize his discomfort, even without trying to reach into his mind to feel it in more detail. “If you would like confirmation of being cured, I can ask the Admiral or someone in the infirmary. At least one of them should have the ability to check that.
“Being here as an inmate means that your decisions have hurt others, and you can change something about yourself in order to avoid going down the same path. I think that people who would recognize that are more likely to be given a choice. The same goes for people who would desire redemption of their own accord. Understanding that you need help is a good start.”
Confirmation of being purged of the alien DNA or still stuck with it ... did he want to know? What if he wasn't as free as he hoped, and it was merely suppressed? "I'll think about it. If I'm not, I'll need to start .. setting up contingency plans."
The sort of thing a warden was for, weren't they? But maybe not, not when it's temporary. That'd be more of a burden than someone deserved.
He definitely hurt others, and for a moment there's a mix of pain and guilt on his face before it's buried beneath schooled neutrality save the pinch of furrowed brows. "I know what needs to change to make certain it never happens again," he says slowly, unsure that's something he really should be venturing at all, "But it's not something I have a say in."
If he wants help with this, getting confirmation is the best starting point that they can think of. “The Admiral may be able to help you with contingency plans as well.” They could be promising too much, but they doubt the Admiral would be unable to do anything about it. And if he is unwilling to help, then that also gives them information. Even if this is only temporary, their job is to watch Angeal and help in any way they can.
They notice the shifts in his expression, their own remaining neutral. “What needs to change, and why do you not have a say in whether or not it does?” They believe that he believes he has no say in it, but if he knows what needs to change then he would not be here unless he could do something about it.
"Is that something inmates are offered? Is it not part of the burdens we're expected to bear for our crimes?" He genuinely isn't sure how any of this is meant to work, but it made sense to him. He caused his own problems, he should be expected to fix them himself.
Avalon's job is to help, and Angeal's not making it easier. He should probably stop dancing around it at some point. "Biology." It wasn't something he could change. "The Admiral's able to alter it here, obviously, which I am grateful for, but if it can be permanently removed then ... well, I might be living a lie but at least it's a safe one."
“Whether the Admiral would be willing to help seems to depend on your situation. Something like permanently altering your DNA would require a deal.” Avalon reaches into their pocket, pulling out their orb. As they touch it, its surface shifts to a deep pine green, swirls of black twisting deeper inside it. “Something like this could be done with a request.
“I lack the ability to feel emotions the way humans do, and I spent most of my life thinking that I had no feelings at all. The physical and mental pieces of them are separate for me, like my mind and my body are disconnected. The reason I have the orb is because I asked my Warden if the Admiral could give me typical human emotions, and it was not something he could do. I may be able to use my deal to get emotions, but I could not simply request them.”
They put the orb away. “Whatever change you need to make to graduate will be more than altering your biology. I needed to learn why I had hurt others and how to make different choices. Developing the ability to recognize the emotions that I had helped me do that, but I still needed to make changes on my own. If you need an aid, that can be requested, but permanently altering your DNA would require a deal and learning how to avoid causing harm in the future is something that you need to do.”
A deal is out of the question, and thus put aside as a near impossibility, and is waved off briefly with a small negating gesture. Whether or not it was potentially possible, it's out of reach and not to be dwelt on for now. Better to focus on what he can do.
The ball makes a return, and when it's explained, the burly SOLDIER's brow furrows, perplexed. He's not stupid by any means, but this sort of thing isn't in his realm of experience. "...So what does it do, exactly? Does it let you feel things?"
He's still thinking of the ball when he considers the rest. "If it's not something I can hope for for now, then I'll worry about it later. So long as powers and abilities remain locked away, both I and everyone else are perfectly safe." Which is ... all he really needs.
Talking about the deals has Avalon considering their own for a moment, but the thought gets pushed aside quickly. They have a general idea of what they want to ask for, and the details can wait.
“I have some emotions, but the pieces of them tend to happen separately. If I were to feel happiness, I might feel it mentally one time, but my body would feel neutral. The next time I felt it, I might feel nothing mentally, but my body would be activated.” Activation was what one of the library books had called it — intense or detached physical activation, and positive or negative emotional valence. “The orb changes color based on the emotions that match the components I might be feeling.
“Your permanent warden will know more about your situation and will be better equipped to ask for an aid if you need one. They can help you manage your abilities when you get them back.”
Angeal gives a brief laugh, though it sounds a touch self-reproachful. "I can't begin to guess what that's like." All he can do is GUESS. Would it be like having a jolt of adrenaline without knowing why? Did happiness have a physical feeling? Fear did. Anger did. "It sounds hard."
He'd have to try to remember to focus on it when he next felt it, if he ever deserved it.
A permanent warden might be a ways away, he'd have to find out how they were picked so he'd have time to figure out what to address and what not to. "I'd rather not get them back if it's all the same." He's fine the way he is now. "..As a temporary warden, are you able to make any requests in my stead at all? I've a minor one I wouldn't mind having but it can wait."
“It might be like feeling physically hungry, but not wanting food, or vice versa.” Shaw had described her emotions as being like hunger. “It became much easier once I understood it and knew to look for pieces rather than a whole.”
Rawne had been able to restrict their abilities before they were permanently paired, so, “I can make requests for you, but there are limits. I could be able to get you something from your world, depending on what it is. I would not be able to restore your abilities.”
My name is Thrawn. I work alongside you on custodial duty. If you are interested, I have a one-day experiment for us. Should it succeed, it may reduce your workload there, in half the time. It may also - and this could be either a warning or an additional incentive - irritate Richter Belmont.
Absolutely understandable. Please note that if you find after I tell you my proposal, you may back out with no explanation needed or repercussions given. This is truly only a brief experiment.
Richter believes that the most efficient use of his bloated team of fifteen inmates is to go floor by floor, every day, scrubbing everything down. When I told him this was ill-advised, he dismissed me as attempting to militarize the ship.
I am reaching out to all of us on custodial now. We pick one day in the near future - just one day - wherein all of us take a single floor. No top-down work, with the more difficult levels 1 and 2 being assigned more than one person.
He believes he knows the best way to conduct things but he misunderstands that we can accomplish the same goal in half the time and manpower.
Perhaps then half of us - the half that have been unwillingly drafted into it for fear of punishment rather than a genuine wish to serve - can be free to do as they like.
I'm cautiously interested. I don't mind the extra work but I also see the merit in punishment detail, which it seems custodial is. After all, we are not here to enjoy our afterlives, and few prisoners indeed are willing to be imprisoned.
Indeed. My issue is primarily the lack of standardization and sloppy adherence to a schedule. It would appear Richter is content to allow matters to go unresolved because of a lack of effort on his part to provide a rubric.
I asked if the purpose was for punishment or for other purposes and was told it was in order to keep the ship clean. Given that purpose, would you agree this arrangement is somewhat slapdash and could use a more efficient method?
Richter's opinion on the purpose may differ from that of the Admiral's, and I suspect it does, as there seems to be no real qualifications needed for Warden. Certainly no training.
I'm willing to assist in this demonstration, but will not push for further change if it's rejected. I'm a military man myself, and know the value of command structure even if the NCOs are idiots.
Our structure seems different from most militaries I've read about since; I was a ground forces enlisted commander with the rank of First; we lead from the field. I believe an approximate equivalent to a corporal. Maybe.
[Avalon has no idea what to think of being paired with the same person twice in a row. The first time that had happened, Ruka had disappeared, but the second time, Rawne had become their permanent Warden. Perhaps the Admiral is watching either them or Angeal.]
You and I are paired again. What was the request that you wanted to make last time?
Hm, I thought these pairings were different every month. Well, that's alright. I'm told my warden might have a way to get the Admiral to change the view outside my windows? It's simplistic, but.. I miss the countryside.
I see. Well, that wouldn't in theory be a terrible thing, but it might be best to get to know each other better. I know so little about you, last month just.. got away from me.
[He should have checked in. Wasn't that how it was supposed to go?]
... Thank you. I suppose if it's allowed, I'll find out soon enough.
Some people have a harder time with Breaches than others. [They should have checked in. They had done it with Root, after all, and they are responsible for Angela, not the other way around.] My job is not necessarily to get to know you, and you have no obligation to get to know me. This can be anything you want.
Is there any harm in getting to know a fellow passenger? Warden and inmate aside, it's a wide, wide universe and I've seen very little of it. Of course that can get a bit tedious and I understand if that's not something you're interested in.
Getting to know others is useful. [They do want to be more professional with their temporary inmates, but everyone here is still a person.] You are primarily my inmate, but I do want to get to know you personally.
If it helps, you can think of me as not being your inmate. No obligation, no worries.
[Should he be trying to set someone else's mind at ease? Or is that getting too pushy? He rubs the scruff of goatee briefly, thoughtful.]
Then next month when we're matched with someone else we still have a foundation. With the .. emotional disconnect you spoke of before, do you enjoy meals? Maybe I can make you something.
I was both an inmate and a friend to my warden, so I should be able to navigate a relationship like that again. [They understand why Rawne had found it awkward, even if they are disconnected from the emotions behind it.]
I do enjoy food. My body can go without it, so enjoyment is its only purpose for me.
'Anything' is far too broad a category. Let me see what I can do, give me a couple days. I don't have many strings to pull yet.
[But it'll be worth the added effort. Soup and pastries are also pretty broad, he'd have to take some guesses. Sweet, savory?
It isn't til he gets up to head to investigate what he might find that the change in the windows is noticed, to the forests and arched trees of Banora.]
..Huh. That didn't take long. Thank you.
[He sounds wistful. That's a view that doesn't exist anymore, elsewhere.]
I tend to prefer sweet pastries. [The first time they had been to the dining hall, they had essentially hidden themself behind a pile of danishes and muffins.] Any kind of soup would be fine — I like it because of the warmth it provides, not the flavor. [Eating soup feels similar to affection, but the sensation of warmth in their chest is slightly stronger.]
The view is more like a video or photo than the real thing, [they clarify.] Actually expanding your cabin is not something that we can do before you graduate.
Thank you for asking, yes I do. I wasn't able to get to your pastries and soup before everything went rather nightmarish, but that's been remedied when you're free.
The recent events were not pleasant, but not worse than was my primary line of work on my planet. I'll be alright.
Soup would be nice. [Soup helps when humans are sick; it follows that it would help with their death toll. While they have come to prefer attempting to sleep through the first few days, they have more responsibilities now than they did before they graduated.] Would you like to come to my cabin?
I'll bring it to you, sure. Do you want anything else? I can make a couple stops on the way if there is.
[Just because it was nearly routine for him, nothing that directly clawed at his own fears and doubts and guilts, didn't mean that was the same for everyone.]
Alright. I'll see you around dinner time. Please take care of yourself until then.
[And he will too - it means heading a bit early to the kitchens to make sure there's something fresh and hot to bring, but Angeal got along reasonably well with the Warden running the kitchens like his personal army.
And as he said he would, he turns up in early evening with a covered tray, and knocks on the door.]
They sleep through the rest of the afternoon, dreamless and light enough for them to wake up when they hear the knock at the door. They spend a few moments making their bed, ignoring the pain in their chest and shoulder, then answer it.
“Were you injured at all during the Flood?” Their voice is rough, and they look more tired and pale than usual, but nothing else is obviously out of the ordinary.
There's something measuring in the way Angeal studies Avalon; he's used to battlefields aplenty and the side effects of those battles, clearly it's been a rough time. "Not enough to be a concern. May I come in?"
He himself looks and sounds almost completely normal. Most of the worst of it happened to other people, he was just .. an accessory. "It looks as if you could use more sleep. Did you speak to the medical staff?"
They watch him blankly as he studies them, looking through him more than at him. “Good to know.” They move aside, letting him in and closing the door behind him. Unlike most others here, their cabin is the same size as it appears to be from the hallway, and could easily belong in a hotel.
“Someone killed me during the Flood,” they explain, gesturing for him to follow them. They have a coffee table in front of their window, big enough for two people. “Do you know what the death toll is yet?”
"I've heard it exists." A price to be paid for dying sounded sensible, but he also hadn't planned on ever returning from his last round with death. "A way to keep people from being too reckless with their own lives, sounds like."
Except someone killed Avalon. Wardens had their powers. Was it a monster, then? The tray and its covered bowl of soup is set carefully on the coffee table. At least there'll be no reason to get up and rummage around, he's also brought a spoon! "Are you intending to retaliate?"
“Not exactly. It seems to be an unintended side effect of dying rather than an incentive to avoid it or a punishment for being too reckless.” The death toll is another limit of the Admiral’s power, just like the fact that they come back with their body in the same state as it was when they arrived on the Barge after going home.
Avalon uncovers the soup, somewhat surprised to see that Angeal only brought some for them. “The person who killed me was not herself during the Flood, and even if I blamed her completely … revenge is not something I often want.” They want to talk to Ilde, because they still like to leave things finished, but they see no reason to retaliate.
"It seems to have left you pretty tired." A note is made about it. As far as the SOLDIER is concerned, this meal isn't about Angeal, it's about Avalon, and making sure they have what they need after what's obviously been a bad time. If he could make it easier, even if it's just with soup, then that was a small price to pay. HOpefully Avalon likes beef and barley, it's tasty enough, and hearty, but it's not going to win any exotic food prizes.
The sigh that follows the decision to not go for revenge seems a little bit relieved. "Have to say I'm glad for that. In this place, retaliation doesn't seem much of a deterrent. It could escalate." The ongoing violent circle of tit for tat! "Does she know what she did, or was that.. not being herself also tampering with minds?"
“My body is unused to needing rest.” Comas and death tolls are the only things that seem to cause them to need sleep. As far as they are concerned, being able to sleep through the worst of the death toll is useful.
Avalon takes a bite of the soup, focusing on the warmth it spreads through their chest. “She knows that she harmed people, which may or may not include the knowledge that she specifically killed me.”
That brings to mind some questions that he's not sure are inappropriate, so Angeal bides his time to test the metaphorical waters more cautiously. "I won't interfere, it's not my business, but ... if you choose to say something, and wish backup in case it gets bad.."
Well, you can take the SOLDIER out of duty but keeping him from wanting to do it is another matter. Avalon might be his warden, but somehow that meant to Angeal responsibility went the other way too. "..Are you .. capable of restful sleep, or is it a matter of waiting til the fatigue fades?"
“I plan to let her to decide how she deals with it.” She did apologize on the Network, but Avalon decides not to say that so as to avoid revealing who it is. How she deals with the aftermath of the Flood is her decision. “She does not seem interesting in doing something like that again, so I see no reason to involve anyone else.”
They are beginning to understand why he seems to care about their wellbeing this much. After all, they had offered to help Rawne when they had been his inmate. “I tend to sleep through the first few days of the death toll, and it does seem to help.”
This ship had a way of encouraging murder. Adding to it wasn't particularly sensible, but it seems Avalon wasn't inclined to go looking for trouble.
That's reassuring. "Occasionally in situations like that, when the mind is altered.. there's not much that can be done to prevent it. And generally nobody wants it to happen again." But it still could. Accidents, even grisly ones, were still accidents. Angeal isn't going to go looking for vengeance in their stead.
He knows a bit too much about what happens when people lose their reason and choose violence. "Hm! Well, until you've recovered, if you need anything, let me know. Even if it's just tidying up a bit or bringing a meal or two. I don't mind a bit of exercise." It'll help him keep tabs on Avalon's wellbeing while he's at it.
“The death toll usually lasts about a week, but the first few days are the most severe. After that, the only symptoms are phantom pains. I should be fine soon.” He seems level-headed enough not to take revenge for them, which is good. “Do you need anything?”
That's not the first time he's been asked that, by the rueful smile that crosses his face. "No, I'm fine." He wasn't, it just wasn't anything that'd interrupt his work, be it an assigned task or otherwise. "Let someone worry about you instead. I'm a pretty resilient guy."
Phantom pains and exhaustion, for someone who didn't really seem to sleep much, didn't sound like a pleasant time. "I'll bring some pastries up later on, see how you're doing." Not that he's going anywhere just yet, he has a bowl to bring back to the kitchens, and assure himself that Avalon is actually recovering, and not.. getting worse in some fashion he couldn't quite detect.
Something in his expression makes Avalon wonder if he means it. “You can be functional without being fine,” they tell him. They had learned to differentiate the two when they were dealing with other people, and are still learning how to do it for themself.
“I would rather you not worry about me. I can take care of myself.” The death toll may not feel good, but they have a way of dealing with it. The soup might help, or they might learn of another symptom that they have not experienced yet. Either way, they can learn more about how to take care of themself. “I also think that the soup was enough food, but having a visitor later might be nice.”
It's waved off - literally, one calloused hand making a brief dismissive gesture. "Functional and fine are interchangeable for a SOLDIER." Was it?
It was for him. For the forseeable future. He chuckles though, like it's not really that big of a problem. "No can do. Once I know someone, I worry about them. It's just how it is, the key is to not get too stressed out over it." The number one reason he looks much older than he is, constantly being concerned for everyone else.
And now that included Avalon. It didn't matter if they were only temporarily paired, Angeal was rather free with his concern about people. "Well, in that case I'll see about visiting more often.
Their expression remains flat, but they do pause, trying to decide whether they should press further. While his mind is not entirely closed off to them, it is much quieter than those of some people here. His emotions are a blur, the same way Shaw’s had appeared on her orb: there may be something under the surface, but Avalon would need to fully connect with him in order to see it. And without a file, they have little context for anything that they might sense.
“I see.” That piece of information may not be relevant now, but it could be later. They have time to decide what to do with it. The idea of someone being concerned about them may never stop feeling foreign. As they get to know Angeal, it should begin to feel more natural, just as it had with Rawne.
They finish the soup, setting the bowl and spoon aside. “I would like to eventually visit your cabin. I should feel better in a few days, so I can come visit then.”
"Fee free to. The door's unlocked if you turn up and I'm not there." The bonus to having nothing precious to lock up, no reason to lock anything. "I try to keep busy, idle hands do mischief's work and all that, but I stop in often." And of course every evening..
It's going to be a disappointing sight though. Angeal's been given a very rustic environment. But it's comfortable. "I'll see about leaving some snacks just in case, and a deck of cards if you're into games."
“I think you trust the people here more than I do.” They tend to let those they know into their cabin without much hesitation, but they would rather it not be open to everyone. That, and the fact that it would be irresponsible to let just anyone into their cabin now that they have weapons of their own. “In any case, if I visit, I would likely do it while you were there.”
"What would they do? What could they take that has any meaning to me? What can they do to me that will matter?" Although it's a very serious topic, he is .. gently amused. Not so much at Avalon, but the idea itself.
Death had no meaning. He had no objects of value here. What could anyone really do? "I'm sure there's people here with quite a collection of important things, or reasons for concern, but ... I can trust, because there's nothing anyone can do."
“I lock my cabin because I keep weapons here, and I would not be doing my job if someone took them and used them to cause harm. Also, some people need to be denied access to things like that in order to learn.” Avalon had. The Barge had needed to strip their options away one by one before they considered a different path. “I was thinking that you might want to protect something that was important to you, but if not, then it makes sense to trust.”
"Our situations differ." A warden would, reasonably, have a very good reason to lock a door. They likely had access to all KINDS of things that inmates generally did not; weapons, magic items, the possibilities were endless.
For a warden, not using a lock was probably the height of irresponsibility. "I... can't say I have anything important to me here, besides people. And I can't very well lock them up in my room." His tone turns that last part into a joke, he's certainly not even THINKING about it. "I suppose it's for the best. But I'll endeavor to be there when you turn up, either way."
What safety precautions are going in to protect people from the literal zombie creating parasitic plant? Is the Admiral nullifying all of its more unusual traits and keeping its appearance only?
[ Bless you Angeal for verifying either Vincent is sane or not all horticulture enthusiasts have no safety checks when it comes to plants. ]
Still discussing the particulars. I just wanted to be sure I was reading the same thing. Have had some... interesting dialogue with the Greenhouse supervisors.
One was very... enthusiastic about tending that type of plant with minimal restrictions to its power.
Supervisor. Aerith was fine, just a bit enthusiastic.
And... still working on that. I think she's reacting like most would for a normal animal. Not a fiend or monster.
[ It's text. How is the frustration bleeding through twelve point Courier New? Also... that's a new thing to worry about. He was concerned about the inmates that would mess with it. ]
I'd put a stop to it immediately if I found out that was the case.
It's not your place to put a stop to it, but it would be your place to present the problem to the Admiral as an active and rather pointless hazard. I don't see any benefits to having something like that onboard without having its unusual traits harshly curbed. I know we can't die here but I'm not sure becoming a zombie counts as dying.
[ Well, he would have been circumspect. And probably used the right channels. ]
Only speaking to Misty Quigley right now. Can't say for sure without seeing it, though I got the impression it's more like the offshoot of the plant reanimates the dead corpse.
[ Pedantic sounding, but may be relevant given returning to life when there's a corpse around seems to involve the corpse of the individual in question. So it might need to be freed of the parasite. ]
Right now doing damage control. Hoping she doesn't realize she could probably request this thing regardless of whether I want it for the alchemy or not. Still needs to be run by the Admiral.
I'll be sending my concerns to him and saying I'd prefer to stick with requesting the petals as a precaution though.
In that case who do I speak to about getting my hands on a restore materia and a fire materia? I want to be prepared when it's time to purge the infection.
Your current warden fills requests like that at their discretion.
At the same time I'd hate for this to get out of hand with rumors. Better less people know about this than more.
[ For at least three good reasons Vincent can think off offhand. One of them being that they don't need a lot of people panicking or getting paranoid about whether this plant is going to be on board when it hasn't even been decided if it will. ]
I am reasonably certain I would not need to explain why to my current Warden, having the ability to heal a little or burn a little can only be to something's benefit.
If you need some measure of backup from another warden however, if someone's foolish enough to insist on having a zombie plant onboard, Archer is very no-nonsense.
PLEASE do. Really. I want to know if I'm risking being turned into plant food just by strolling the hallways casually. Meanwhile there's plenty of salt and vinegar to be had in the kitchens and it's an amazing herbicide.
[ Sir that phrasing suggested that the science included some poor animal. But yeah, that was probably extrapolated on in words and not test. Well, maybe some poor slugs suffered a cruel fate. Still. ]
Fairly sure it said undead. But can't hurt to try.
[ Can vinegar be blessed by a priest? Salts could in theory. ]
[ There's a serious, contemplative moment in which Vincent decides he may want to avoid buying pickled things in remote villages when he returns to Gaia. Instead... ]
If it manages to slip in and you can pickle it, let me know the results.
Archer and Angeal are, coincidentally, both in the kitchen when the announcement goes up. Archer considers it with all due seriousness but waits until the work is done to mention it.
"It seems we've been paired for the month."
Yes, good, getting right to the point.
"Is there anything I should know, or that you'd like to know about me?"
It's heard, but in the meantime there's food to be made and then dishes to be washed, and while chatting while doing that is possible, it's also a good way to have a knife slip. Not Avalon a third time - that's fine, he was still going to keep tabs on them and how they're doing. "Yup."
Of all the Wardens to be paired with, Archer's not bad. He's used to the man's directions by now, and at least it wasn't guessing what a stranger was going to be like. "... Not really sure what you need to know. At this point I'm pretty certain I'm here because of forcing my protege to kill me, if that helps." That's only one part of it. There's so much else. "I admit I'm curious about you, but I'm not going to pry and damage a perfectly good working relationship over a temporary pairing."
Archer’s raises an eyebrow at that first comment, but otherwise doesn’t react much. It makes him very curious about the circumstances that would have led to such a choice. There’s usually quite a lot beneath the surface that leads that that kind of self-destructive behavior, after all.
“I can imagine you had reasons for that.”
Archer also had reasons for wanting to reach an end, but he’s not going to pick at that right now.
“I won’t ask about that unless you want to talk about it. I’m not going to be offended by your questions, though, if there’s something you’ve been wanting to ask.”
"At the time they seemed like very good ones." Now? The jury was still out, save that he's certain had his mind been clear he'd have handled it himself. "In the short term.. is that something temporary pairings are meant to get into? Avalon and I got along well, but we didn't really get into personal matters much."
The impression he'd been left with was that temp Wardens were more or less tehre to keep someone out of trouble, not actually work on improvements. Angeal did not cause trouble most times. "...What's your background? Before this place. You run things like I'd expect someone of my line of work to, not a civilian."
“As far as I can tell, temporary pairings exist for two reasons - to make sure each Inmate has someone responsible for them and for the Admiral to see if two people mesh well enough to pair them permanently. I don’t have very much personal experience with the temp circuit, to be quite honest with you, for the simple fact that I was paired with my first Inmate early in my tenure here, and my second was assigned to me almost immediately after the first had graduated. They’re usually hit or miss from what I can tell, and it’s impossible to predict how they’ll go until they actually happen.”
He was never paired with Florian temporarily, ironically, but they had gotten along very well beforehand. So he’s sure that factored into the Admiral’s decision there. Among other things.
“As for my background…that’s somewhat complicated. But you’re right - I’m not a civilian. I spent most of my youth in battles or war zones. Fighting, yes, but not under any one specific banner. If there was somewhere I thought could benefit from my skills, such as they were, that’s where I would go.”
He snorts, amused. "I suppose since I'm already working in the kitchen then you'd already had the responsibility part, in a way."
So far, two-zero on whether or not he'd been assigned someone he felt was reasonably acceptable to be around. Avalon was distant but ultimately seemed like a perfectly decent person, no clashes to really be had. None with Archer as yet either, Angeal knew better than to challenge a king in his kingdom. Especially over food. "What led you to choosing one side or another in such freelance work? Or were you more oriented to the populace?" Almost mercenary ... almost, except nothing had been said about a highest bidder. There might not be one.
“Only in the sense that I’m responsible for what happens here. But things can get messy when those duties conflict with the priorities of other Wardens.”
It’s happened before. And it’s his least favorite part of this job sometimes.
“And I made my decisions based on my own sense of justice. Or injustice, as the case might have been. I can’t give much in the way of specifics since that was such a long time ago, but I cared more about the result than anything I could get personally in return.”
"It counts. It's just a little extended. It should be an easy month for you, at least. I don't really see me deciding to go on a rampage or anything this month." Some inmates were ... absolutely the sort who needed to be locked in a prison. How much they'd gain from all of this he didn't know.
That's an interesting way to put what Archer was up to, and Angeal pauses, rolling it around in his mind. He remembered every major battle he'd been in, and Archer honestly didn't look THAT much older than he was. "I see. Better than going to the highest bidder, if you don't mind me saying so. How long ago was that? You can't be older than thirty, thirty five."
Archer hums at that. Neither of the Inmates he was paired with in the past were prone to rampages. That didn't mean things were easy. Just challenging in a different way.
"There are some things that happen on this ship - and off it - that none of us can predict. Though I do appreciate that."
To the other points, well...
"There were benefits and drawbacks. I did what I felt was right, but ultimately, that sort of lifestyle is confusing - and terrifying - even to the people you're trying to help. It's much easier to understand someone who has a price - especially when they have abilities that you don't."
The path of the superhero always leads to an unpleasant end.
"And appearances can be deceiving. I lived to be in my late 20's or early 30's - but it's quite impossible to measure the period of time that came after. Millenia, I would say, but I can only estimate."
He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back a little against the counter. Whether or not this sort of exchange is strictly necessary, it's still interesting to find out about. Archer had not really discussed who he was or where he was from, that hadn't been needed in order for htem to do their jobs onboard the ship.
"...I can understand that one. But you did it anyway, that takes honor." People who would be afraid of something much stronger than them, and the mysteries of unknown motivations. As many people were afraid of SOLDIER as adored them, after all. One black eyebrow rises at the idea that he's possibly a thousand years old or more. "You don't look that old. Tell me your skin care routine."
He probably doesn't want to know Archer's skin care routine.
"Honor wasn't the driving force that pushed me to do what I did."
He doesn't sound annoyed, but it's a very firm correction. The reason he'd thrown himself into conflicts was more foolish than simple adopting a set of principles. He just couldn't stand to see people sad. It was entirely childish and largely based in trauma he'd experienced early in life. A broken man striving to fix a world that was even more shattered than he'd ever been.
He doesn't see a reason to share any of that right now, but...maybe one day.
"As for my skin care routine," he says in a very matter of fact tone," I hope you believe in ghosts and spirits. Because that's essentially what I am."
I don't, I'm still taking stock of what happened. .. If nothing else there's still a lot of cleaning to be done. Yanking debris. Seeing what's salvageable.
... For better or worse, I spent nearly the entire debacle with the other ship unconscious. It spared me the worst of it, everything from the ship being hit by the wave to our rescue by the Admiral's just a blank. Yourself?
They seem trustworthy so far, but that may change when I learn more. [They had mostly kept to themself on the Narrenschiff, and had not interacted with many of the crew members.]
It's good to meet you, Sameen. ..Or Shaw, if you prefer.
I like to see new planets if I can, though the ..last venture didn't quite go as planned, and I was dead to the world for everything after the ship flipped from the rogue wave. This one looks peaceful though, hoping to get in a bit of fishing.
My dad talked about taking me fishing a couple times, 'cause his dad took him when he was a kid. Lakes weren't always easy to come by in the places we lived, though.
Meet me on the deck; I'll come up and take you down.
[She hasn't been back onboard the Barge since they docked, but she can make a brief (very brief) exception here.]
[No reason to delay! There's worse ways to spend a port than doing a bit of sight seeing, and when Angeal turns up on deck, he's neatly dressed, clean, and ... significantly bigger than his new temporary warden. Supersoldiers.
But nothing of his bearing aside from his size and frame is particularly menacing, he seems rather placid all things considered. Maybe she'll get an easy month from at least one of her paired inmates.]
[Shaw, at five-foot-two, is used to people being bigger than her - not this much bigger, necessarily, but all the same. She doesn't balk at his size, nor does she seem to have any shame in having to look up to address him as she approaches.]
Hewley?
[The man could just be a random person who happens to be coincidentally hanging out on the deck, but she's betting not.]
[Were this back home, he'd be looking for a rank to address her by. In the absence of it, there's no salute but he does draw to a stop at a respectful distance.]
As accused; you must be Shaw. Do you need anything before we head out? Weaponry, supplies?
[He's not allowed weapons! But she certainly should be, though by the way things looked over the rail of the ship, he doesn't expect it to be necessary.]
[The gun draws a short nod, that's plenty of fire power for ... most things, really.]
Haven't met him myself, but that's an ominous name to be going by in this kind of place. If it comes to it, which it ... shouldn't, the Admiral hasn't seen fit to rid me of my durability, if things go pear-shaped keep your distance and take advantage of that gun, I'll keep trouble distracted.
Sounds good. I feel like after recent events the Admiral will be trying for a more sedate kind of location, but you never know.
[Alongside the possibility of violence from his fellow inmates; if Shaw's his warden for the month, then he'd have to keep tabs on her safety. It's only fair.
But the smell of the sea is pleasant, and the air is warm, and while he's keeping an eye out for problems he's also not expecting any by the general relaxed bearing he has.]
Forced my protégé to kill me when I started losing my mind.
[That's terribly blunt. And only part why he's here, but he hasn't figured that out yet.]
Might also be here for other work-related things, I'm not entirely sure what the Admiral's after yet.
[Hmmmm. Shaw considers this in silence for a minute or so, a thoughtful look on her face.]
Can't blame you for wanting to die if you were losing yourself, especially if it would have made you a danger. Why'd you pick your protégé to do the job?
[It's leaving out a lot. A lot. But surely it's mostly completely irrelevant, surely, so he's not going to bother.]
I knew he'd be able to, if pushed hard enough. SOLDIERs of my rank are ... very hard to kill on a good day, and I knew I couldn't trust anyone else to actually do it.
[And he's well aware it was a bad decision; he's visibly uncomfortable with it.]
Yeah. Probably crappy for his own mental state, though, so you're probably right; that's part of the reason you're here. And as far as the rest goes--
[She glances over at him - seemingly unfazed by his discomfort, but not reveling in it, either.]
I'm not so good at spinning my wheels, and you don't seem like the type to keep me busy by going on massacres. So I'm thinking this month, we try to figure out at least some of the other reasons. Get a good list going for your next warden to dig their teeth into.
[Not, she notes sourly to herself, that she expects most wardens to bother to read the inmate ledger.]
It was, terribly. ...He's here. One of your fellow Wardens, Zack Fair.
[A man who's been here for years, on this ship, and graduated more than one inmate.]
... Mm, that I can promise. Rampant murder for the sake of murder is ... [Dishonorable.] Unprofessional, at the least. I like to think I'm low maintenance, it'll give you more time to focus on that Dark Urge fellow if you need to. If we come up with anything else on the side that sounds fine.
[The boats to fetch water shouldn't be far, at least, less stable than the giant Barge but a fun challenge all its own.]
It'd be an asshole move to not bother being a warden to you just because you're quiet. Especially if you're a friend of Fair's.
[And she's not surprised at all by that connection - already, they remind her of each other. Finding out that Angeal is Zack's mentor feels like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
Coming up on the dock, she scans her eyes over the eclectic offerings, noting with distaste that none of them have motors. She wonders if that's standard, or if they're just unlucky. Going to stand next to a rowboat, she looks at Angeal, raising a questioning eyebrow.]
Sounds like I might have years to work through things, if something else comes up more immediately important, that's not an asshole move to focus on it.
[Saddling a warden with two inmates simply doubles their workload! How is that fair to anybody?
If all the motorboats were already taken that would be Angeal's luck. The rowboats are considered for a long moment, brow furrowing, before he simply shrugs and heads to climb into the nearest one with an ease that suggests it's not his first.]
Just tell me where we're headed, and I'll do the rowing. We have containers for this special water we're supposed to get?
[He has designs on rowing in both directions. He's just not going to say so, he knows better.
The boat seems sturdy enough to do the job, so long as the weather didn't suddenly turn or anything, and as he settles into his chosen spot and picks up the oars, there's the matter of containers.]
..I could run back up to the deck, I think I saw a five gallon bucket.
[Bringing magical repair water in a five gallon home depot bucket is PERFECTLY REASONABLE. It'd be fewer trips!]
[Someone more magically-minded than Shaw might have been able to deduce that the cups are the only things that will be able to carry the water, in order for it to keep its intended effects; magic, after all, tends to have rules of its own, if one knows how to look for and understand them. Unfortunately, Shaw knows how to do neither of those things, and she's too logic-minded to find any flaws in this plan. Of course they should just use a bigger bucket. It's obvious.]
Get two, if you can find them. Check the greenhouse.
[Angeal's world does have magic, unfortunately all his training in it has been more of a scientific bent than pure mysticism with rules that make no sense. So it seems perfectly reasonable to try to cut down on runs needed. Why do little cups?
If he could figure out how to get an entire barrel out there he would, but the rowboats simply didn't look big enough to handle the weight.]
I'll see what I can find.
[So back out of the boat with Angeal, and back towards the other Boat. It's going to take him a few minutes, even at a jog, to find what he's looking for. At least it's a peaceful day?]
[And while he does that, she'll busy herself with preparing the boat for departure: untying it, readying the oars, and then steering the prow directly into the sandy shore, anchoring it in place so that Angeal can easily board when he returns and they can shove off immediately.]
[And when he does return, somewhere around fifteen minutes later, he's now got two 5 gallon buckets, with their lids. There's a lot of barge to repair, little cups one at a time was a waste.]
Sorry, I took a minute to wash them. I don't know if magic water can be contaminated, better safe than sorry.
[He doesn't mind getting a little wet to get back onto the boat, it's a bit necessary with someone his weight standing on the part buried in the sand. But it won't take more than a bit of maneuvering at least to get them fully back in the water.]
[Shaw will hop into the prow to help him get the buckets in, settling them on the floor between the two seats - and then handing the oars over to him only a little bit grudgingly.]
So you said you think you might be here for work-related stuff. Assassinations?
[His smile is brief and he hopes, friendly, when he takes the oars and settles into place. He's getting the impression getting the chance to row back is going to be a challenge.
But the smile fades. 'Work', such as it was..]
Not usually. I was more ... if my rank got called in it's because you needed the entire base razed, not because you need a single target eliminated. I'm not sure what the equivalent is in other militaries. My orders sometimes included ... non military targets.
[No surprise, there.]
At the time.. orders were orders, and we were there to try to make their lives better. The company did good. It brought health care, cheap electricity, roads, sanitation, better infrastructure.. but the cost was war. Over and over.
One of the best. There weren't many at First Class, just myself, Sephiroth and Genesis for ... a long time.
[But the Planet was dying because of it all. That was too high a price to pay.]
I don't feel bad about most of what we did. I had my orders, I followed them, I pushed back when I felt it was too much. But maybe the Admiral doesn't agree.
Doesn't agree that you shouldn't feel bad, or doesn't agree that you should have pushed back?
[Based on what she's seen on the Barge, she has what she feels is a pretty good guess as to which is more likely, but she's interested in hearing his thoughts.]
With not really being bothered by most of it. Can't imagine a being here to help us has a problem with kicking up a fuss when things got too bad.
[Makes sense to him, even if it's not why he's here at all. The rowing isn't any kind of a distraction but it's nice to have a simple physical goal: row.]
One of my close friends is here too but I'm getting the impression he's here for things that happened after my death, not before it, and he had the same orders I did. Sometimes refused them too.
[Hmmmmm. If he's from Zack's world, she knows quite a few people also from there, but most of them are wardens. Which, as far as the people she knows by name go, narrows it down to--]
The way I see it, everybody makes their own choices. Even if you did something crappy to him, he has the free will to decide whether or not he wants to talk like a supervillain on the network.
[She pauses, then thinks to add--]
He's not anything close to the worst of the worst. My guess, the guy you knew is still in there somewhere.
If genetic degradation is involved, he might not have had much free will in the matter.
[There is a moment where the metholodical rowing becomes harder, a focused drive of some unpleasant emotion or other, but as soon as he realizes it he readjusts.]
... But I hope so. He's here because someone thinks he can do better, and I know he can. He was a good man, not so long ago to my memory. Reliable, kind. Loyal.
[Lots of good things, lots of things that hurt to think about if he accepted he might have had a part in things going so badly.]
[And that's the truth, at least. If it wasn't one thing going pear shaped, it was another. Sometimes it felt like life on this ship was just moving from one headache to the next with no pause inbetween.]
How long have they been partnered? If it's been a while and progress isn't getting anywhere.. might not be ideal.
[Sometimes a good, trustworthy friend isn't what's needed to motivate - maybe that's why Angeal's not really gotten involved either. He was exactly the wrong person ot handle a friend's problems.]
[It's the sort of blunt question that some might take offense to - but Shaw, queen of blunt questions, doesn't seem put off in the slightest. She gives a nod in acknowledgement of the point, but--]
Wardening's annoyingly inefficient sometimes, especially when the inmate's especially smart, especially stubborn, or especially bad. Like I said, he doesn't seem like that last one to me, but smart and stubborn's a tough combination. Could be that progress is happening, but it's happening slowly. Or, uh, circuitously.
[The unpredictability of the Barge isn't always an asset.]
Throwing a bunch of strangers together and hoping half of them have a fundamental realization about their entire lives is usually a pretty big ask.
[Obviously it works often enough that it's worth continuing. And it gave people like him another chance too, already pretty aware of what was wrong but not sure what to do about it.
There were worse topics for a boat ride across a foreign sea to who-knows-where to get special magic water.]
Especially with what seems awfully like monthly dips into trauma and suffering.
You get it. This place is weird all around, and I don't know what the Admiral was thinking when he set it up like this. Best answer I keep getting from people is that the chaos and confusion is a perk, but I don't buy it.
[She pauses, and then adds:]
Don't get me wrong; it could be a lot worse. If I were fundamentally opposed, I wouldn't be here. My objections are, I dunno, cosmetic.
If I didn't think it had potential I wouldn't have agreed to come.
[How many inmates were there by choice? Angeal hadn't found another yet, though he knew they existed, he wasn't unique. But most had to be dragged kicking and screaming.]
Though there's been some history, I guess, with how the Admiral does things versus usual ships, and .. he's got a pretty good success rate? So there's got to be a method to the madness, we just can't see it because we're at the bottom of the well looking up.
I'd rather not think of the other alternatives, if this is one of the methods with the highest success rate. The other ship had given up on it entirely hadn't they?
[He hadn't been conscious for almost all of it.
There were regrets. Maybe he could have interfered. Prevented more destruction. For a moment, Angeal is quiet, thoughtful.]
What are you getting out of being here, Shaw? I was offered a chance to make things right. What were you offered?
The Admiral's offer to wardens is a lot more... open-ended.
[Shaw says, reaching down to trail her fingers in the water that's just starting to show traces of glinting dawnlight.]
He told me I could have anything I wanted. And he came just a couple days after a good friend of mine had died.
[And even though he hadn't specifically said I can bring Root back for you, the implications, as far as Shaw is concerned, had been clear. He'd picked the time, the place, and the person for a reason, and despite her confusion and suspicion, she'd jumped at the chance.]
But then he brought her here as an inmate and negated any deal I could have made for her, so who the hell knows what he was thinking.
[That's interesting. He hadn't really asked anyone what they were getting out of this, but Zack hadn't given him the impression that the Admiral was sneaky and backhanded about it.]
As far as I can tell, we're just put back where we were before, but alive again if we graduate. I guess that means you could just.. leave if you wanted, and not put up with any of it.
I'm told, though it usually feels like bullshit to me, that sometimes it's okay to prioritize what's good for you. Something about not setting yourself on fire for others, I never really paid attention.
[He certainly had paid attention, but that's not what this is about.]
If no time passes, then she'll be there when you get back, right?
Yeah, sure, but there's a balance there, right? And anyway, home isn't so great either right now. I'm fine with the extra prep time. I've even gotten a few people to sign on to come help us fight.
[She lifts her hand out of the water, examining the glowing drips as the light continues to slowly spread.]
I like the extra time with her, too. Especially since there's no guarantee she'll graduate and get out of here - people disappear sometimes.
[It's pretty, in a distracting way, as were the occasional golden fish that turn up to investigate the boat's shadow. This wasn't the water they were after, but surely they'd get there, in the radiance and warmth.
And then, the five gallon buckets. That this won't work at all will just have to be discovered the hard way.]
First time anyone's mentioned people disappearing. Just.. kicked right off?
[Shaw pauses, her hand freezing above the water - and at just that moment, the light hits her at full strength, and reveals a truth to Angeal: that she hates having inadvertently been the one to break this particular bit of news to him, not because she doesn't want to bother having to explain, but because it's a potential emotional minefield, and she considers herself wholly inadequate to handle that. Beyond inadequate, even - she feels completely incapable.
But she answers all the same.]
Yeah, just-- poof. If they're wardens, they're probably okay, living it up back home. If they're inmates, they're probably not.
[When Angeal straightens up from his rowing, the oars briefly lifted from the water so they can coast while he studies Shaw directly, there's something in that measuring gaze that suggests it's not what she's just said that's caught his attention.
He doesn't speak immediately. There's certainly dark implication in inmates disappearing to who knew what fate, but...]
I am sorry if this is a rude question; Are you in possession of meta-human abilities?
I think I'd be alright. Wouldn't be the first time I've had a useless commander, I'll tell you stories about Heideggar sometime.
[Nobody minded when SOLDIER was handled by Lazard instead.]
... But seriously, Shaw. It might be a while otherwise, it's not running out if they're encouraging you to go. I won't keep pushing if you insist, I just don't want you thinking you have to do anything.
Good answer; you know your own life and everything, but it's still easier to talk about specifics when you know how the file describes stuff. Come to my place; I'm in cabin one-oh-seven.
[There are of course things he wasn't certain he wanted played back and others knowing, but what harm could it do? The Admiral had neatly seen to making certain he couldn't harm anyone here, and that was surely enough.
It takes him a bit to get there, apparently he's picky about the snacks, but eventually! A knock. And Angeal, with a plate full of crackers, cheese, pepperonis and apple bits.]
[Shaw deadpans, when she pulls open the door and sees the spread.]
Will Graham, eat your heart out. Come on in.
[She steps back to let him into the cabin: a small, single-room space with a kitchenette area, a little round table, a TV nook with a couch and a big dog bed, and a curtained sleeping loft. There's clearly been a good attempt at making it seem as homey as possible, with cozy furniture and funky decor (far more funky than Shaw's usual vibes), but underneath that, it's very industrial; the walls are cinderblock, and what flooring isn't covered by area rugs is bare cement.
[It's not going to be the only time he brings things, if she's not careful. Angeal has learned since childhood how important good food is .. and how often people neglect it. This is just snacks. It'll escalate.
Spotting a dog bed means looking for other signs of a dog, including an actual dog, but when one doesn't instantly turn up, it's ..almost disappointing. He likes dogs.]
If you give me a cheat sheet on what you like I can bring something nicer next time. Most people don't reject pepperoni and cheese though. Seemed a good bet.
[And there's the file. It looks innocent enough, even in a cabin that has a decorated cell vibe more than a home vibe. Was this what she was most comfortable with? The plate of snacks is set on the table by the file, he doesn't go for it yet.]
[She says, popping a square of cheese into her mouth and dropping down into one of the chairs.]
Not much that can be answered by a Q&A, though. So why don't you read it through and let me know what you think.
[He knows his own life story, obviously: she's not imagining that anything in the file will be a surprise to him. But she's interested in seeing his reaction to it: to its phrasing, to its straightforward delivery, to the way particular events are described and interpreted.]
[Personnel files are nothing new to him, he's had them, he's reviewed them.
This one's not by Shinra though, and after a moment he shrugs slightly and picks it up, settling carefully on one of the other chairs. And it's true. None of it's a surprise. But some of it is still hard to get through; none of it was really that long ago to him, and there's quickly a point where something like sad pensiveness settles in and then never leaves.
An impeccable record, if the bioengineering were left out, and if anyone ignored the last year. He could have been proud of it, once. Now?
The towering SOLDIER seems somehow diminished in his seat when he sets the file back down, voice subdued when he finally manages to say anything.]
Seems accurate. Mom and dad deserved better than being a footnote.
Mom.. wasn't really that long ago to me. Never really had time to come to terms with it.
[And while it obscures part of the reason of his unhappiness, that too is true. Losing a parent is hard to most people but the Hewleys had always been a small, tight knit family.]
There's a lot of things to regret. Don't think I can make any of it right anymore, most of the people are apparently long dead.
[But not all. Zack's here, but Zack is more willing to deal with him than he is Zack, that's just too much guilt.]
[Shaw says this around a piece of pepperoni, but then stops, realizing that she probably shouldn't try to discuss Angeal's woes with her mouth full of deli meat. She finishes chewing, swallows, and then continues like a normal person.]
Yeah, you can't make stuff right with dead people, and that sucks. But here's a thing I noticed about what you just said: you can't make any of it right, because most of the people involved are dead. That sound rightheaded to you?
If you have ideas for how to make it right, really right and not just lip service, please tell me how I make up for my best friend's mental degradation and forcing my protégé to kill me?
[There should be bitter sarcasm or anger or something there, but there isn't.]
I can apologize, and Zack would likely accept it, but that wouldn't make it real.
Words are just words, saying it doesn't make it real.
[Even this, as uncomfortable as it is, is a convenient diversion, though he doesn't know it. This is, surely, the problem.]
Zack .. no. Not in so many words. He's been through enough, I don't want him feeling responsible for me too, and ... Sephiroth doesn't remember who I am.
[There's a bitter finality to that last, in voice and bearing. He can't make things right with someone who didn't even know who he was, never mind what he did.]
[She mutters it under her breath, mostly to herself; she can't exactly tell him to break the news to Sephiroth without potentially causing fallout there, which means she needs to talk to Yunlan. Warden-warden politics: her least favorite thing.
Oh, well. At least Yunlan's not annoying.]
Saying it doesn't make what real? Lay it out - what specific thing do you think talking about it should do, but that you know that it won't?
If I pick up a knife and stab you and then immediately apologize, it's not going to do much good is it? It's just words. If I meant it I wouldn't have stabbed you to begin with.
[Angeal, at least, doesn't seem to be the sort of inmate who feels the need to demonstrate this.]
Got it. Okay. Yeah, this is too big and complicated for apologies.
[She leans back in her chair, a thoughtful frown creasing her face a she crosses her arms over her abdomen.]
Tell you what. How about we leave the Sephiroth issue alone for now - though I'm gonna want to talk to his warden about it, and I want you to come along for at least one of those talks. But you should talk to Zack about it. Not an apology, a talk.
[He'd do it again. That sticks in an uncomfortable way; if push came to shove and things unfolded the same way again, he'd once more make sure he's removed from the equation.
Any apology would be hollow and he knows it.]
I hear Sephiroth's a project a few years in the making. It may be cruel for him to ever remember, and I don't know if the Admiral is merciful enough to spare him that.
[Not even from Angeal's own actions, though remembering your friends abandoned you would be difficult.]
... But maybe I can .. offer something that'll help his warden. I don't know what, but it's worth a try.
[Not for his own sake. He can acquiesce to that. Something that might actually help his lost friend could only be to the good, couldn't it?
Zack is harder, somehow. Zack remembered.]
It's been years for him, Shaw. If 'redemption' such as it is comes with the price of tearing open old wounds just to try to make myself feel better, then I'm not sure I'm interested. He deserves whatever peace he's found.
Shouldn't he have the right to make that choice for himself?
[She pauses, letting that question hang for a moment before continuing.]
I'm not saying force the issue. If you approach him and he completely shuts you down, then sure, back off; we'll handle this another way. But if you haven't talked to him about this at all, then you don't have a clue whether you'd be tearing open old wounds and ruining his peace, or giving him closure and helping him find it.
[Another pause.]
This isn't about making you feel better. I mean, I don't get off on making you feel like crap; I'm not going for emotional torture. But I'm here to help you earn a second chance at life, not help you be comfortable - so if you're seriously worried I'm hoping for a feel-good approach that's supposed to make you feel all warm and fuzzy, then you don't have to worry about that.
[Something in Angeal's expression strongly suggests that the answer to that is 'absolutely not', but he doesn't actually answer that dangling question. Some things don't need answers.
By now it's certain half the Barge is aware of exactly what kind of lengths Zack Fair will go to if he thinks something can be accomplished that's good, even if it's detrimental to himself.]
I'll think about it. With the ruckus lately timing's going to be difficult, and it seems for every nice quiet stop we get on this ship the next one's miserable.
[She says it without hesitation. There is a but coming, though.]
Power struggles are pointless; I'm not gonna try to grab you by the ear and march you down to Zack's cabin. I'm gonna keep bugging you about it until you either find a good time for it or get sick of me asking about it, though.
[Angeal's pause is one of the mildest of bafflement that turns by bits into something almost amusement. The subject matter is a little too sore to be real humor.]
I'd like to see you try.
[It's not a threat, or bravado, or aggression, he probably means it; he's fought against and alongside all kinds of people, but his opportunities to tangle with people a fraction his size and weight were rare.]
But I'll get it done, when I know things aren't going to be another round of clawing through dark bloodsoaked foggy hallways or something soon.
[Eventually. If he says he will he will, but that doesn't mean he won't delay as long as he can.]
[Thing to put off as long as humanly possible: that.
But he'll agree to it anyway, he does at least know it needs to be addressed. That will be a problem for Future Angeal, Now Angeal has other concerns, like not addressing the vast bulk of things the dossier outlined in favor of things he did know how to contend with.]
If you ask, the Admiral can remove the rest of my enhancements, right? My durability and stamina are still at SOLDIER levels, it won't be an even playing field if left that way.
[He's more than happy to spar! But when he can keep fighting for a few days straight without rest if necessary, it wouldn't exactly be fair as things are. Getting nerfed isn't even remotely a problem at least.]
Fair enough. I'll be transferring out of Custodial soon, so I'll have a lot more free time than I'm used to even pulling kitchen duty. Pick a time, we'll have some fun.
[That could be an innuendo if it were anyone else, but he seems to still very much be on topic.]
No. I'm hoping for Archer, we get along pretty well, but I'm not even sure what shift I'll be. Is Trevor difficult to work for?
[Hey he'll take what information he can get, he'd met the man exactly once right before the Narrenchiff debacle, and it didn't give him a good idea how that'd go.]
[Shaw makes a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat, shaking her head slightly.]
He's an idiot, and he takes pride in doing as little wardening as possible - I don't know if that extends to the kitchens. He's... okay to get along with on an interpersonal level.
Why does the Admiral keep him onboard if he's not doing his job? I don't need a lot of guidance in the kitchen at least, just give me a list of what needs to be made and I'm usually good to go.
In the end I guess it's not my job to second-guess the Admiral. If he's here he's accomplishing something.
[..Right? Right? That's how this works, it's all purposeful even if he doesn't see the bigger picture..!]
I ran into him for a bit when we were on the cruise ship. Went swimming. He seemed alright, but I hadn't really approached it from a worker and boss kind of position. Guess I'll see how things go.
[Shaw snorts lightly at the word boss - she's certain that Trevor doesn't see himself that way - but otherwise she reigns in the snark. She doesn't despise Trevor or anything - she's not bullshitting about them getting alone fine on an interpersonal level. But professionally, they're complete opposites, and she always has to rag on him at least a little.]
One last thing. I'm, uh-- not great at talking about myself, and I'm a pretty simple person. But if there's anything you wanna know about me that you don't already, you can ask, and I'll probably answer. I also want to be up front about the fact that I have a personality disorder, and I don't do emotion well.
[His eyebrows rise slightly. She seemed perfectly normal to him and not disordered in any way; was that a reflection on his idea of normal, or..]
You seem alright at it to me. You'd fit right in back home.
[She's more emotive than some!]
Maybe different worlds have different ideas of what's typical. I'm curious, about your line of work and what your world's like, the usuals, but I don't mind waiting. Or not finding out. Mysteries make the world go 'round.
[ He will probably appreciate that pants are not in fact optional. ]
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
It's not long before Vincent arrives. He's holding something tucked under one arm. It's making a few puzzled bleps of noise. But the cloak? Covering most of it is at first. Apparently it's something he feels he can speak to though.
"Still don't know what you're trying to say." It's been a bit of a long short walk from the Infirmary to Angeal's cabin.
There's going to be polite knocking involved here. Locked doors aside, there was a pants situation that might not be resolved.
The pants situation has been resolved, but Angeal's not bothered with anything else when the door is opened. Shoes, socks and shirts are apparently optional, as he hasn't bothered, but at least he has pants on.
Vincent and his beeping captive are studied for a long moment. "I see. This can't wait. Come in."
And then he walks away, heading for a small dresser and beginning to rummage through the top drawer. He already knows Vincent will close the door, so theres' no point in saying so.
The door is indeed closed. This allows Vincent to bend down and place the MSE-6 Droid on the floor to scurry around the room and investigate (that is to say, look for ways in which it can get back to its programmed duties but since there really isn't any... just scooting around making little annoyed 'statements' in clicks, whirrs and beeps.)
"Found it going through the ducts. You haven't seen this during your time in custodial, have you?"
Yup, that's allll he's here for. To check to see if it's a janitor droid. Nothing else. At all.
"Can't say I have, is that where you found it?" That's a potential security risk but also, it's a chore bot of some form, he KNOWS it's a chore bot of some form, and he knows his duty.
It's just taking a bit of digging, his supply is dwindling. Eventually he comes up with another pair of googly eyes in amongst the other miscellaneous items he'd been picking up for a while now. Usually having a kitchen junk drawer is reserved for those who have a kitchen. "It's not one of the cruise ship's chorebots, the design is too primitive."
"No. It was traveling along the duct line near the infirmary. So I grabbed it when it came through on the return trip."
Vincent territory. He didn't take kindly to unknowns. Probably just stuck his whole left arm in there and snagged it. Poor droid.
The droid seems to agree with this amorphous assessment of its fate, for it goes off in a string of what may be (is) a type of language.
"Mm. I've got two of them. Just wanted to verify that the new supervisor didn't set up something that she forgot to notify others about. Or that I missed it up til now."
Well, possible. There's been a lot going on these last few months.
It doesn't surprise him at all that a Turk is going to be territorial over things like that. Who knows what a machine might be programmed to do? Even just spying could be problematic on a ship like this.
The beeps .. don't sound like a recognizable language to him but it certainly seems feisty enough. "I don't think the new supervisor intends to do a lot. She seems the sort to stay hands off and hope for the best."
By Angeal's tone that could be a positive or a negative, he's carefully neutral. "Not sure she's got little bots like this on her world, she talks like most jobs are done by hand, you know?"
"That could be a concern. But I'll put out a call after we're done here."
And then he'll get to speak with Fred and Thrawn. ...At the very least there will be some assurance that the MSE-6 droid is not an immediate threat. Just an unreported addition to the maintenance procedures.
People really need to stop trying to give Vincent a heart attack. Really.
"...The front seems safe enough."
You know. Apropos of nothing other than the flat, slightly slanted surface of the droid's front seems free of sensors and may be a safe bet for important matters at hand. But there are a few other options.
Avalon pauses when they see Angeal in the hallway, looking through him more than at him for a moment. Their thoughts on him are more complicated now: the last time they were paired with someone more than once, it had become permanent, and they had almost been expecting that again. Angeal is also the reason that Shaw is still here, and they like that they have more time with her.
It makes no sense to say any of that, so instead they ask, “Do you need help staying warm? I can turn into an animal if you would rather not touch me as a person.”
How these kinds of things work, he didn't know. He'd had temporary wardens, he'd assumed he'd keep having them for quite a while, his careful asking around had resulted in the idea that most people rotated for months on end before settling on something.
This is rather early, by his flawed estimates.
Avalon turning up in the hallway earns them an immediate smile. "I'm doing alright so far." But this in no way prevents him from opening his arms in a way very much suggestive that he wouldn't mind a hug anyway. "But no reason to take frosty chances. What species you are isn't really important, is it? I'm not contagious or anything."
Their expression remains blank when he smiles at them, but they do walk over and hug him. They go still once their arms are wrapped around him, their touch light. Their body is small and skinny and fragile next to his — they feel like he could break them if he wanted to, but they doubt he would. They relax into his touch once the cold dissipates.
“I guess not.” They might not know him particularly well, but they were mostly using animal forms for absolute strangers and Angeal does not fit that category.
They break the hug, then hesitate for a moment before: “Is ‘being contagious’ a problem in other contexts?” That was an interesting way of phrasing it, after talking about what species they were.
Hey, Angeal, you seen Zack lately? Tried calling him a few times but he hasn't picked up, and he didn't walk Zeke at the time he usually does. Kinda worried.
[Silence; this isn't something easy to find a neutral way to put. Sending people to bother Zack while Zack obviously didn't want to be bothered wasn't a good idea.]
Disagreements. Nothing you need to worry about.
[And it is very, very deliberately that he changes the subject.]
Speaking of, you came up; how's things going with Sephiroth? Is he treating you nicer? Making dinner maybe?
[Cloud hangs up. But this is far from over. This is really not normal behavior for Zack. The only time Cloud can remember this kind of thing happening is...well, after Angeal died. Hmm.]
--
In a few minutes, Angeal's getting a knock on his cabin door.
It doesn't take Angeal long to get to the door; he's not struck out yet to start a baking marathon by harassing Archer into unlocking the kitchens at unholy hours of the night, but it's ... pending.
When it swings open, the cabin beyond is ... outright rustic. Might even be a bit nostalgic for Nibelheim save Banoran architecture had its own flavor of peasant. But there's no pets to take up comfortable corners, no-one else but the SOLDIER, who studies Cloud for a long blank moment before gesturing for the blond to enter. "None of this is a game. It never was."
The door is left open as he heads back inside to his stack of stolen borrowed magazines. He hadn't been able to focus on any of them, but he can try. "Not sure why you kids always think everything not right what you want when you want it is a 'game'."
Cloud's only two years younger than he is. Maybe three.
Cloud just waits, arms folded, until Angeal lets him in.
"I'm not stupid and neither are you. You know exactly what I meant. And I'm 24." Technically 23 when he died, but he's had a birthday on board the Barge, so he's counting it.
He closes and locks the door behind him as he follows Angeal inside. "What happened with Zack?"
"I told you already." The glance Cloud is given looks a bit puzzled. "Do you think if you ask twice the answer's going to change?" Kids these days. Of course Cloud would expect the answer to change. He points to one of the battered bits of furniture. "Have a seat. Do you drink mead?"
Why Angeal's heading for a closet is by context, to fetch mead. But what is it doing in his closet? "I don't know how things are done in the future, Cloud, but in my time you don't spill another SOLDIER's guts when they're very obviously not interested in talking. You respect the distance they're asking for."
"You told me jack shit." For what it's worth, Cloud doesn't look angry - or at least, not any angrier than his normal resting sad bitch face. "Except 'not to worry about it,' but it's too late for that."
His natural response is that he's fine standing, but he sighs quietly and takes a seat wherever Angeal indicates is best. It gives him a moment to look around with some curiosity at the ways Banoran houses both are and aren't reminiscent of his own childhood home. As for the mead-- "Sure."
It's closet mead, apparently. Maybe he's hiding it because he stole it from somewhere?
"That's not--mm. I didn't even know whether he was asking for that or not, he just... I wanted to make sure he was okay. And that he didn't...disappear."
Cloud's not sure what he would do if Zack just vanished off the Barge like Nico and Alan did.
He's hiding it because he's making it! There's .. a lot of percolating jugs in there, just frothing in their own juices. No fancy machinery, just closet moonshine made of bee products. Inmates probably aren't supposed to have unfettered access to alcohol, but he IS getting the help of at least one Warden, so probably it's fine.
Only one is apparently worthy of being selected. "Far as I know he's still onboard. He says he's not leaving until Sephiroth graduates, seems reasonable he's going to do his best to hold to that. The Admiral's got a good Warden in him, and isn't going to cut him loose out of nowhere." He doesn't even have nice glasses to use, Cloud's handed what looks suspiciously like a glass canning jar, once it's filled with closet mead.
It should taste fine. A little bit fruity, one of the ongoing experiments is what tastes best when added in. "Zack's tough, and he knows to turn to his friends when he can't handle things. That he hasn't asked for you or returned calls just means he thinks he's doing alright on his own." Was that actually true these days? ... Maybe not, but he liked to think so.
When Angeal opens the closet door, Cloud sits up straighter to peer inside. "Nice setup. Did you build that yourself?" It is kind of funny to think about the most honorable SOLDIER brewing moonshine in his closet, but he was never all that clear on what 'honor' was really supposed to mean in the first place.
He takes the jar with no judgment, sniffs at the mead for a moment, and then takes a sip and nods appreciatively. He thinks Tifa would approve, and he thinks Tifa would have suggestions for how to make it better, too.
...he misses her. But it's best that he doesn't see her again until after he's graduated and made himself better.
He frowns and looks up. "Nico was a good warden too, and he didn't want to leave, but one day he was just...gone. Yunlan says it just happens, sometimes, and nobody knows why. Not even the Admiral." Of course, that's assuming the Admiral isn't lying about it, but whatever.
Cloud's pretty sure there's something off about what Angeal's saying, but he can't quite pinpoint what it is.
"Doesn't explain why he's that upset in the first place. Look, I'm not asking for every detail, but he's been upset before and it wasn't like this. He's never been a private person except when shit was really bad, or classified. And nothing's classified anymore here. If you don't want me hunting him down to ask him, then at least tell me something."
"D'vana Tendi's been assisting on the technical aspects." When you have a Warden helping that's tacit approval as far as he's concerned. "As long as it's kept temperature controlled and dark, it seems to work alright." And tastes fine!
And if it works its way into the Barge's other alcohol stashes, that's not Angeal's business.
Angeal is pretty sure the Admiral directly causes who leaves and stays, given the invitation he got, but he doesn't say so. "Maybe. But Zack's still here." That's an assumption but one he can reasonably make. Surely someone would have noticed. Would his comm have simply stopped working? Would his room have reverted, leaving his dog to wander lost through the halls?
With his own cup in hand, Angeal sits on a different careworn bit of furniture; it's not the most comfortable ever, but it's old and it's familiar. It could have been in his home growing up. And now it was only a reminder of the family he'd lost. He swirls the drink in his glass a little, frowning. "We don't see eye to eye on a few subjects, the most recent one being Sephiroth." It's true, at least. "Zack felt I should be more concerned about myself than my friends, even ... if they don't remember me. The last time I did that it ended in violence. I don't intend to walk the same path twice."
"Heh. Course she has." The woman who gave him a bottle of Romulan ale for the holidays? Yeah, he believes it.
Cloud lets out a quiet breath. If Angeal says Zack is still here, then he probably is. One less thing to worry about, at least.
He sips at his mead while Angeal talks, but he pauses when Sephiroth comes up. His brow furrows at the rest. Even if they don't remember me. When Cloud had finally remembered Zack, he'd felt awful about having forgotten him. ...a story he has yet to tell Angeal despite his intentions, he recalls, but now is definitely not the time.
"Well...Zack's a warden. Yunlan and my wardens have said the same thing, about focusing on myself instead of others. But that's impossible. Can't just sit around navel gazing when someone you care about's having trouble." He thinks for a moment. "Last time...when you left Shinra, you mean? But wasn't that for Genesis? ...is something wrong with Sephiroth? He seemed fine this morning."
"He's the same as he was last week." Angeal does not consider that being okay, but it was ... stable. "Healthy enough by all accounts, just ... not the same man I've known half my life. Doesn't stop me from worrying though." That's an easy admittance to make, Angeal worried constantly about everyone, probably where all the wrinkles came from, if he wasn't simply aging abnormally fast. "..There do seem to be certain themes from Wardens." It's all the same job.
Cloud was on that list of people to worry about, whether he wanted to be or not. "While I left for Genesis it was also my hope to bring him back. I didn't intend to stay AWOL for long. And then ... things got out of hand. Although every SOLDIER is equal to a platoon of normal troops, we work best in groups. And Sephiroth, Genesis and I .. there wasn't much we couldn't accomplish together." Sure they were sent on separate missions all the time, but unified? "But we let our focus on ourselves blind us. And we went our separate ways, and we died. One by one."
He drains his glass in one long swig before setting it on the old wood magazine table. "I already know what focusing on myself gets."
Cloud glances down. This must be how Tifa felt. He was a totally different person when she found him in Midgar. She was worried constantly.
His eyes stay lowered and even move away slightly. Yeah, Sephiroth died. Cloud killed him. So that's...awkward.
He looks up again at the sound of Angeal putting down his glass. "Yeah, but you and Genesis were dealing with degradation then. You're not anymore here, so focusing on yourself at least enough to graduate shouldn't lead to anything too bad. Plus, you got a warden and a bunch of friends watching your back."
He sips his mead thoughtfully. "I don't get it. If there's nothing going on with Sephiroth, what did Zack disagree with you about?"
"And if my warden decides to do what plenty of others do for their inmates and grants me my full strength back? It's just a matter of how long it takes this time and how many I take down with me, then." It's in his file, but how much would that ACTUALLY affect someone's decisions? "I can't afford to sit back and assume everything will work out."
Regardless of the fact that it was a fantastic way to dodge his own problems by focusing on others. Like Zack's disagreement. "...What to do going forward, mostly." That's a paraphrase and a half. It seemed Cloud and Sephiroth were well on their way to mending whatever animosity had been there after Nibelheim, it's just another thing too precious to risk destroying. "Shaw's taking the standard track of suggesting apologizing for wrongdoings as an early step, but of the two onboard I'd owe that, Sephiroth doesn't remember any of it. And forcing him to simply to say I'm sorry would be..." Pointlessly vicious. "Too high a cost."
"...how long and how many did it take the first time?" Cloud asks quietly. "Zack never talked about what happened in Modeoheim. I was there, but Tseng and I got injured, so Zack went on by himself. And then when he came back...he didn't say a word. I'd never seen him like that. Then I didn't see him at all for a while, not until he came back on duty to rally the rookies. I never got up the courage to ask him." And this, Angeal, is why he's so worried about Zack now.
Cloud takes in the explanation about Sephiroth, deep in thought. "Nobody can force him to. He's the only one who should get to decide whether he remembers everything or not. Not even Yunlan should be making a call like that. But...sounds like Zack thinks he should. Still doesn't explain why that was so upsetting for him, though."
Then, a pause. "Of the two onboard. Is Zack the other one?"
Angeal considers this for a long moment. "I think you're chasing the wrong chocobo, Cloud. Based on what I've observed on the network, nothing about our disagreement was worse than any other he's had with others before, so it probably wasn't that at all. Sometimes things are just... bad timing." It's not just an excuse, he doesn't see the connection between hibernating against the world and their argument. It wasn't that bad. So it had to be other things, or other associations.
Why DID Zack retreat to silence and ignoring calls? It wasn't something as minor as that. He's surely faced people who've disagreed with him before, or outright fought with him before. "But I agree. It's Sephiroth's choice, and he doesn't want to." Torturing the good man he used to be wouldn't in any way be helpful.
So Angeal wasn't going to force it.
"As for the rest, it took a few months and cost two thirds of SOLDIER between Genesis and I." He studies Cloud, wondering how things would have gone for him if he'd tried to join at the RIGHT age and not much too early. "If he never told you about any of it, either back then or before I arrived here, that seems to be a pretty deliberate choice." Zack said nothing, even before worrying about Angeal hearing about it was an issue. "The things that happened there were not pleasant. I'm not sure I'm alright with you being able to spring it on him when he's made it clear he doesn't want you to know."
"Hm." Bad timing...it's true that Zack's had plenty of arguments with plenty of people and never reacted like this before. Angeal isn't just anyone, but...if he doesn't know, he doesn't know.
Cloud nods to Angeal's agreement, but then he pauses. "I think...it's less that he doesn't want to, and more that he doesn't know whether he wants to or not. I get it. When you're not sure who you are, it's hard to know what to want." He speaks with confidence, as if he knows from experience. "But - you said I came up in that argument. How?"
He gives Angeal a hard look. "Why the hell would I ever do that to Zack? And who'd go out of their way to talk about something like that to anybody? You seriously think I'd ask about the worst shit he went through when I finally get to see him again after all that time thinking I never would?" Cloud shakes his head and stares into his half-finished glass of mead. "I'm just...trying to understand. I wanna help him. I tried, back then, but I couldn't. Couldn't...keep up. And all that shit was way above my pay grade, and by the time I learned anything it was too late. We were already in Nibelheim and Sephiroth was already holed up in the basement, Zack was already at the end of his rope, and there was nothing I could do."
"He had a recording of his explanation to someone else of Nibelheim's entire chain of events, and played it for me. Needless to say Sephiroth and what happened to him was ... on topic." And brought into focus that things might not have gone that way if he'd still been around. Surely he would have been if Genesis had still been alive at that point. What his mental state would have been was.. very debatable, but alive. "He was my friend. He was for years. It's ... it might be like finding out after you wake up that Zack had gone on a rampage and killed a town full of people for no reason. It doesn't line up with what you know, and what you know is he'd never do any such thing. Not who he was. And who he is now.."
Sephiroth's not just an echo of someone gone. "Who he is now is making his own life. His own friends. His own dreams."
Without the past. Maybe the past wasn't necessary. "Not long after we first met there was an effect here that dredged up our fears, without our interest in having them displayed." Something in Angeal's bearing shifts, from concerned towards stern. "Do you think you'd have to go out of your way to gossip for ANYTHING to get around? That aside, do I think you're the kind of man who'd see a friend in distress and then try to talk to them about it?" Yep.
He spreads his hands at his sides, expression grim. "You're here aren't you? Specifically because you're concerned about Zack? Do you believe you'd still be here if he picked up your calls, or would you have gone there instead?"
Cloud's eyes stay on his glass even as he puts it down so he can lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "...yeah. I barely knew him, obviously, but even though I was just some random trooper, he was...kind to me. And you're right - the guy he is now isn't that guy. He's not the guy who tried to destroy humanity, either. We've both been trying to figure out who we are now...think we're doing okay so far."
That stern tone in Angeal's voice makes Cloud's face fall, making him look even younger than he is for a moment. "Course I'd try to talk to him, if I could. But I wouldn't bring up anything he didn't bring up first."
There's something reluctant in his tone when Angeal continues, though his expression is reasonably steady. The worry-lines seem a little deeper, but that might just be the light. "And because of that, because he's finding .. a new place for himself, making bonds, forming friendships, I don't want to destroy it by forcing him to remember who he used to be. Who we are is in a lot of ways dictated by our memories. It shapes what we do, how we feel. If he remembered, he might become who he is again, save now he'll know he's responsible for the deaths of perhaps tens of thousands of innocents, and who he is this very moment may die." He makes a small helpless gesture. "I don't wish the man he was to be punished for who he's become, and who he's become deserves a chance to find a life for himself. My friend is dead. Your friend shouldn't have to die too."
Remembering would take it all away, in one direction or another. He makes it sound reasonable. It isn't his problem, he's nobody's warden, he has no say in any of it.. but as a friend, he didn't want Sephiroth to suffer more. Let the crimes sit on the shoulders of the one who made them.
Maybe Wardens had a different perspective. Maybe they had to, because of their jobs. "..Of course you would. That's what you do, when you know a friend is upset."
But the problem goes back further than one argument over Sephiroth's fate. "But this ship doesn't seem much like it's interested in respecting people's privacy, from what I can tell."
"Not inmates' privacy, anyway," Cloud grumbles. It's a complaint he's had before. But he knows what Angeal really means, so he nods. "Or anybody's, when weird shit starts happening."
He goes quiet, thinking through everything Angeal's said. Was it a mistake for Cloud to remember who he'd been before? Hard to say. The situations aren't quite the same, of course, but they're similar enough that he's starting to think maybe this is the right time to tell Angeal the truth about himself, after all. Who knows, maybe it would help.
Who we are is in a lot of ways dictated by our memories. It shapes what we do, how we feel. Hoo boy, does Cloud know that.
"The question of Sephiroth's memories...what you're saying. I get it. Better than you think." He sits up straight again and pulls his feet up onto the cushion, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. "I told you the story of what happened to me and Zack, back then, and what Sephiroth did in Nibelheim. But...there was more to it. You saw a piece of it, that...nightmare. Think this might be the time to tell you the rest, if you're up for it."
This is weighed quietly - in the context of their discussion, it could be seen as pressure. Secrets being taken or shared, when otherwise they might not. "No, it's up to you not me. You don't owe anyone your story, least of all me."
Willing is one thing. Feeling obligated is another.
"I know. But I've been wanting to tell you ever since you got here, and I just...didn't. That sword, the one Zack gave me that day, it was yours first. And you're the one who taught Zack about embracing his dreams, and he changed my life with that philosophy. So you deserve to know the rest of the story. And...maybe I need to tell you for myself, too."
Not something that would have occurred to Cloud a year ago, or even when he first arrived on the Barge.
"And...I'm sorry, that I acted like you owed me anything. You're right - if Zack wanted to share it with me, he would have."
"Hm. On that note, I do owe you, but in a different way. From what I hear you're the one left to clean up all my messes." And he did, though perhaps in a different timeline.Which means he was capable, and he would and could do it again.
Except maybe this time it won't be necessary. The world doesn't have to come to the brink of ruin if Cloud and Sephiroth are both on the same page.
He doesn't refute the repetition; surely if Zack wanted it discussed he'd have discussed it. He didn't, therefore it was the way it was wanted. "... If you think it'll help you, then be my guest. We're all in this together."
"Yup." Which may sound callous, but then-- "But they weren't your messes. They were Shinra's. And Rufus already knows he owes me and the world, big time."
Cloud nods - they're all in this together. It's something he'd learned, and then something he forgot. But the Barge makes it a little easier to remember.
"Told you about the lab and the mako poisoning. How Zack passed everything on to me. But I was so messed up from the mako and Jenova that my mind was hanging by a thread. Wasn't until I ran into my friend Tifa in Midgar that I woke up for real. She kept asking me all these questions about where I'd been and what I'd been doing, and I couldn't remember. If I had, I think...I probably would've broken for good, remembering Zack's death and everything. So my subconscious and the Jenova cells rattling around in there protected me from those memories, and...filled in the gaps with Zack's instead. He told me I'd be his living legacy, and I was. In all the wrong ways."
He picks up his glass and finishes it all at once. His tone is a shade harder now, a shade more disgusted. "I forgot Zack ever existed. Remembered his life as a SOLDIER as my own, so I could play hero. Erased him just as much as Shinra's coverups did. He was my only friend, he died to protect me, and I just...forgot him."
Cloud has to pause here. There's more, of course - the part that's most relevant to the conversation they were having about Sephiroth - but this, this is the crux of what Cloud wanted Angeal to know. He couldn't let Zack's mentor keep thinking he was a real protege, when all he really was was a delusional wannabe.
For someone admitting they forgot Angeal's protege and all but stole his identity, there seems to be little disgust or anger in Angeal's own reactions. He listens, and pieces it against what he knows.
Of himself, of what he did to his own copies. Genesis, and his own. What happened to those involved in the project, and what he'd been able to piece together afterward.
After a long moment of quiet, where Cloud has time to ruminate on his own perceived sins, Angeal frowns faintly. "Cloud, I want to ask a question that might be uncomfortable. It's related to this."
There's a pattern here. "..Are you sure you're Sephiroth's copy, or is that just what you were told? I don't mean simply possessing Jenova cells and following the S-type protocols, that's a good quarter of SOLDIER."
dammit, this got lost in the deluge of breach stuff, sorry!
Shaw is dressed in workout clothes when she comes into the gym, but it's not the weights or the machinery that she heads for: she beelines for Angeal instead. She won't get too close to what he's doing, especially if there are moving parts involved (no one wants an accidental medicine ball to the head), but it's clear that he has her full attention.
Just a punching bag today, heavy and sturdy; whatever he'd done to his shoulder meant it was still a little bit sore trying for proper sword forms, but boxing was a completely different set of motions and pummeling a bag for a few hours was a good way to let his mind wander and keep somewhat in shape.
When Shaw turns up suddenly it's easy to stop at least, and reorient on his Warden instead of the heavy bag, picking up a water bottle poached from the kitchens. "Yes ma'am. What do you want from me?"
Easy compliance, but that's nothing new. He had other ways of digging his heels in.
"Let's start where we left off," she says, leaning against the wall a few feet from the bag. "You said you get the point Fair and I are going for, but what you wanted from the conversation was more important. And you're capable of making that judgement because you're a rational actor. But you're still here as an inmate."
No sparring then, at least not for now. That's fine. He sits on one of the benches Abel had been using for his sports massages, picking up a towel. "Does being an inmate mean that the Admiral has ruled you have no moral compass to speak of, or are judged incapable of being able to make rational decisions?"
Angeal doesn't sound like he has an opinion one way or another, it might just be a question. Finding a baseline.
"Neither," she says, her tone just as measured as his. "It means you've got stuff to work on, though, so you owe it to yourself to not assume your perspective is infallible. And that's not always easy for a rational guy to do."
"Let's chase this rabbit. This isn't about stuff I need to work on, that's a tangent." He sets his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward in a position that is in fact actually pretty comfortable. "You have a man who until he went insane, was a kind and sensitive soul, who in spite of having a profession that revolves entirely around killing went out of his way to reduce casualties every time he was involved. He has not been brought onboard this ship to pay for any potential crimes. That man is dead, and for the hell he endured in life he deserves his rest."
Angeal fights to maintain neutrality, it's a struggle, this is a sensitive subject to him. "In his place is what was left when he threw away twenty five years of memories. Memory makes us who we are, how we feel, what we do. Strip it away and you have only razor intellect and base instinct to draw upon, and his ... our base instinct is that of monsters. The man who took his place has come a long way, but he is not who he was before. This one has slaughtered thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, and had no remorse. He's improving, I am told. Forming friendships, forging a life for himself." Even if it's just in pursuit of Cloud, but that's .. not the best start, but it's a start.
"In what reality would it be anything but a vicious cruelty to kill the man who committed the horrific acts but is learning to overcome them by putting those memories back, and force the gentle man who he used to be suffer for someone else's crimes?" For all that Angeal's sense of honor and justice might not always rest on the same axis as other people's, it was still very much a strong force in his life; the idea of doing any such thing ground against it like a glacier against bedrock.
Shaw doesn't interrupt, though as he talks, her expression shifts into one of faint bafflement.
"Okay, back up," she says slowly, once he's done. "Way back. You're calling the stuff you need to work on - the entire reason you're here - a tangent. You've gotta know how that sounds."
"It's the subject at hand now. It's what I came to talk to you about. I'm not here to debate whether or not Sephiroth should get his memories back, Angeal; I'm kinda interested in that by extension because your whole schtick doesn't exist in a vacuum, but it's so far from my biggest concern."
Shaw crosses her arms over her chest, drumming her fingers against her forearms.
"Zack called me after you guys fought. I know you guys disagreed about Sephiroth. But not being on the same page about that isn't what pissed him off the most, and it's definitely not what hurt him."
What hurt him comes out with just a smidge of awkwardness - talking about feelings, even other people's feelings, isn't easy or natural for Shaw. Zack had certainly been hurt, though, so she powers through.
"Wasn't that the point of why you sent me to talk to him at all?" He's good at reigning in anything like temper, but that's definitely a glower. "To be handed the recording of Nibelheim's destruction, told of the horrors my friends endured, the price the entire world paid?"
He hadn't thought it was his fault until then. How could it have been? He was dead. Except Genesis hadn't been, therefore he might not have been either, and maybe they could have done something. It's reasonable actions, he can't hold himself accountable if he didn't even know the full breadth of things that had gone wrong.. and why they went wrong. "What conclusions was I supposed to draw from finding out all that follows is years of suffering and misery and death that I might have been able to prevent? That I should focus entirely on myself, something that caused it to begin with or that I need to STOP doing that?"
"Nope. Making you feel guilty wasn't even a little bit my goal, and from the sounds of things, it wasn't his, either. I wanted you to have a real conversation with him about what happened because you died - because of how you died - and how he was affected by it. And from what I hear, when he tried to do that, you shut him down."
She pauses, briefly.
"You don't have to focus entirely on yourself; the people who do that have their own issues, and most of them are inmates, too. I'm glad that you care about your friends. But you're not going to be able to do right by them if you can't look critically at the big-ass mistakes you've made."
Angeal shakes his head, a small brief gesture. "Sounds like you had things misrepresented a bit. He went pretty much right for the recording, and everything that followed was about it."
How much of that is true, and how much is just how he's chosen to interpret it, is up for debate - but he seems certain of it. "I know the 'big-ass mistakes' I've made, Shaw. I've never been under any illusions otherwise. Never claimed to be innocent." And yet it would happen again if things unfolded the same way a second time, that's certain.
"Then please, by all means, be very clear about what you and he mean because telepathy isn't in the wheelhouse of any SOLDIER."
Well actually it is just not in his, that's a Sephiroth thing, mostly used for tormenting Cloud. As Shaw looks around at the scattered inmates and wardens, he sighs again, more about the circumstances of gym than anything else, shoving himself to his feet. "Don't think anyone's going to care if they over hear, but the garden is usually empty this time of day. You can give me your 'good authority' as we go."
Shaw doesn't plan to share Zack's full comment. It's a bit long to read out loud, and it was written with her as the intended audience, not Angeal; as far as she's concerned, it's intel for her to mine herself, not a message to be passed on. But there is one line in particular that she feels Angeal could stand to hear in full - so she finishes chopping her current potato, wipes her hands on a dishrag, and picks up her communicator.
"'It's just like before'," she recites from the screen. "'Him deciding to be a stupid fucking martyr without even bothering to ask how he can actually help'."
She lifts her gaze back to Angeal.
"I'm saying no matter how rational and well-intentioned you are, you're not infallible. You're not gonna be the best judge of how to fix your own mistakes, and considering your track record, you're sure as hell not in the best position to unilaterally decide how to help going forward. He's not pissed that you disagreed with him. He's pissed that if you care about his feelings and opinions at all - and I'm guessing you do - you sure as hell don't act like it."
The silence that falls is a whisker away from outright incredulous.
It forces him to review everything said that he could recall of his conversation with Zack, and by the fact that nothing like annoyance or resentment creeps in, he's not finding an explanation. "What," he says with slow carefulness of someone measuring their words and thoughts as they go, "Am I supposed to be asking for help on, exactly, when the subject is whether or not Sephiroth should regain his memories? How is it making me a martyr? How was I being a martyr before?"
Of course Zack's opinions and feelings matter, but how they applied to this, IF they applied to this ... seemed terribly off-base.
"Was that actually the point of that conversation?" Shaw asks, sliding her communicator away again. "When I said I wanted you to talk to Zack, did I say, 'Hey Angeal, go brainstorm together about how to handle Sephiroth's issues, because that's definitely top of my priority list'? Because the way I remember that conversation going, I wanted you guys to talk about what you did to Zack and how it affected him."
"Maybe Zack had a different idea about what was important to discuss, since it came up very quickly and was almost the entirety of our discussion. If I'm supposed to be drawing different conclusions other than it being about Nibelheim and Sephiroth, then I missed it, because Modeoheim didn't come up."
Well, it did, but by then it was more an accusation than a discussion. There's no disparagement in his tone, either for himself or Zack; he knows his limitations. And Sephiroth absolutely is important to him even if it wasn't other people's priorities. "And maybe that's on me, because I chose to leave when it became obvious the discussion was going nowhere beneficial, for either of us."
"Did he tell you he wanted you to use the intel he gives you to work on yourself, instead of just zeroing in on Sephiroth? And did you tell him that you think the key to your graduation is doing the opposite?"
Shaw doesn't think Zack lied to her during his sum-up, and she doesn't think Angeal is lying to her now: but it's becoming clearer and clearer that their perceptions of the conversation had differed massively.
This sets off another silent review. As much as he'd like to just dismiss things and focus on the issues at hand - the issue it was about - it was the least he could do to make sure he's as accurate as he could be in his retelling.
"No," he concludes gradually, still ruminating. "Though he did say it wasn't just about Sephiroth, but about how he relates to others and the world around him, and that 'this', whatever it was meant to be, is what he thinks caused Modeoheim." It wasn't the same, at all. At least not to him. The circumstances were vastly different, and this had nothing to do with his then-wish to die. "It's .. some of the same people, in that it involves Zack and I. Sephiroth hadn't been there, and it ... had been selfish of me. Focused on myself." His fear. His worry about what would happen, and how fast it would happen.
Sephiroth had been left behind by all of them except Zack, and apparently that hadn't been enough. "If part of my graduation is making up for what I'd done, then I can't repeat that pattern. It's what caused this in the first place."
She picks up her knife again, getting to work on another potato.
"Sounds to me like we need to focus on finding you a workable middle ground. Because from where I'm sitting, your problem isn't selfishness in the sense of only caring about yourself: it's that conviction that you have to carry all this on your own, and because you have to carry it on your own, you know best how to handle it. That's a different kind of self-focus."
Her cutting board is pretty full of diced potatoes by this point, so she slides them into the baking tray, then moves to continue chopping.
"When you decided you had to die, and you decided Zack had to be the one to take you out - why'd you do it the way you did? Was transforming just a foolproof way to force his hand, or did you think killing you in, uh, chimera form would be easier on him?"
This is going to take a couple different oven temperatures, so he starts on the low end. 350 would mean a longer bake, but also .. would it crisp, EVENTUALLY? Or would it need to be hotter? And then, onion time. The acrid eye-burning will just have to be tolerated. "Some things are mine alone to deal with. Others are not. I do understand the difference, it isn't .. one response fits all situations."
The pungent smell of onion marks any eyewatering going on as purely onion based; right now, this conversation, with someone as steady as Shaw, it's not enough to draw tears out of the man.
As for what he did.. "It seemed reasonable at the time."
The knife is waggled a little; his tone is sober for all that the answer seems frivolous at first blush. "Degradation ... eats away at your ability to make rational decisions, and you'll still be so certain what you're doing is the right thing to do even as you're ... mm, carving pieces of yourself out to feed to monsters. It all makes sense. Sounds right, feels right." The onion, chopped fine enough to pass, is dumped onto the potatos. He can get through this, it's just a discussion. "I know what I did then made perfect sense at the time. Zack would fight if he was forced to, even without ... that form. But he would hesitate to finish it; he still saw me as a human being, and I knew I was not. Becoming visibly what I already was would remove that hesitation."
She's just guessing, here: it's not a question that she asked Zack. But from what he has said, and from how she knows he sees Angeal, she's pretty damn sure that he never saw Angeal as less than human no matter what form he took, and that hesitated as much and as long as he possibly could.
"Do you have any mental framework for not being human that doesn't come with, uh-- a value judgement? Not human, but also not an evil monster?"
"It did, he killed me as I wanted him to." And now there's an edge of reproach creeping in, though it's not aimed at Shaw. Things went exactly the way he'd wanted them to, and right through giving into the numbing pull of death, it had seemed like the right choice, the only choice.
Egg. Baking powder. Guessing on amounts, but that was par the course for most of his recipes. "Like I said. At the time, it seemed sensible. I didn't say it seems sensible now."
Lesson learned: do it himself, coward. It's a value judgment he'd keep making, too. "...My file didn't go into what was happening to us enough if you're asking that question." Cheese. How much cheese is too much? "You have a pretty strong stomach, right? I can clarify."
"I've got a strong stomach, sure, but I think your file went into it plenty."
She pops a second half-dozen carton of eggs out of the fridge, just in case he wants to throw in a few more.
"My mental framework says that even if your decision-making takes a hit, as long as you have some ability to make choices, you have the ability to make better ones, even if it's harder for you than it is for other people."
"You'd be wrong." The sticky, potatoey mess is considered for a long moment before he avails himself on an egg or two further, mixing carefully. Consistency is fine, it goes back on the pan, thin enough to hopefully crunch up. "If it was as simple as 'make better choices', none of us would have had the problems we did. Not just Genesis, Sephiroth or myself, but every single SOLDIER, monster and person we infected. This wasn't the equivalent of getting drunk and making a few bad choices."
"Who says making better choices is simple?" Shaw asks, arching an eyebrow at him. "It's hard as hell, not to mention confusing and complicated. A lot of the time you don't know what the right or wrong choice was until you're looking back on it in retrospect, and sometimes not even then."
The knife is put down, as is the pan. It should go in the oven but having something in his hands right then would have been a terrible idea, had he access to his full strength. Limited only to human norms, it's .. safer, he can't bend steel as he is. "You're not listening. This isn't some debate about morality and choices and what makes a person a person. There's no cure. There's no way back once it starts. If it happened to you, you would degrade once infected with our cells, just as we degraded. You will kill, and you will want to. Your body will warp and mutate, and you will become a monster. You will hate, you will rage, you will find excuses to lash out, and take as many with you as you can. It is inevitable, and it is terminal."
Angeal points one eggy, potato-and-cheese shredded finger at Shaw, expression dark, voice a low growl. It's not a sound that should come out of a human throat, turning his voice rough and grating, but there's stranger onboard this ship. "Sooner or later, you will be an unthinking creature of destruction, until something puts you out of your misery or you disintegrate. I watched it .. again and again and again. It isn't something you willpower your way out of. We are monsters, we are an infectious disease, and sooner or later instinct and nature would win, just like it did with ALL of our victims. My mistake wasn't in making sure I died before I stopped being able to think or could spread my cells any further, it was that I involved Zack. I should have killed Genesis myself and then seen to my own death without dragging him into it."
And. And maybe Sephiroth too. He didn't know if he had what it took to bring down Sephiroth. Maybe he would have died trying.
Shaw is entirely stony in response: not in a hostile, angry, or resentful way, but in a way that aggressive tone and body language aren't actually touching her. She's fully engaged, completely present with him as she meets his gaze, but nothing about her indicates that she's going to back off just yet.
"That sucks," she says, matter-of-factly. "It's a horrifying thing to have hanging over your head. But you aren't there yet. You still have control here, you still had some control at home, and you owe it to yourself and the people around you to keep using it well, the way you were trying to before you decided to have Zack take you out. You also have a hell of a lot more resources and options here than you did back there. You got any idea what Zack's deal is? I've never talked to him about it, but I'd put a lot of money on it being related to doing something to fix this mess."
Only now is the tray snatched back up - and put with precise care in the oven to cook. He'd always prided himself on his self-control, and it hadn't failed yet in the Barge. Throwing things around in a temper tantrum might be tempting, but not something Angeal indulged in.
"It's irrelevant here, and the only reason I have an opportunity to change things. The Admiral's been gracious enough to put a stop to all of that while I'm onboard. Probably part of routine disarming of inmates. If I am sent back to the time I died even temporarily returned to health I should have time to ..do something." As fast as anger came on it ebbs by degrees; it's not an emotion that he can hold onto for long. Never could. "I don't know what any of Zack's deals were, but if any involved what we are and what happened to us, it didn't affect my fate any." Timelines may diverge, with the Admiral's interference. Whatever saving happened may have simply happened to another Angeal.
"Okay, first of all, no way is it irrelevant," Shaw says, as she steps back to give him better access to the oven door. Stretching up on her tiptoes, she pulls a bottle of whiskey down from an upper cabinet. This is an intense conversation, and intense conversations call for a drink - maybe not during, but certainly after.
"It colors how you think about yourself, your past, and your actions. And second of all - I'm using Zack as an example, not as, I dunno, some kind of catch-all solution. I'm not saying Zack's gonna fix everything, so don't even worry about it. I'm saying he's using this place as a resource, and you can, too."
"Irrelevant going forward in this specific way," the SOLDIER grumbles, wiping his hands on his pants instead of anything more useful like an apron or towel. "Here I am not dying, losing my mind or able to cause anyone else to suffer the same affliction." Still a monster, but one with its wings clipped and claws filed and teeth extracted; he can do no harm that he doesn't intend to, and it was one of the greatest blessings this ship offered. Not a day went by where he wasn't grateful for it.
It absolutely colored things, but so did having that pressure stripped away. "Let's pretend I haven't been making use of anything here and have just been spinning wheels since I arrived." He crosses his arms over his chest, watching not Shaw but the oven. "What resources should I be making use of?"
"Before I can answer that - I have to know what you've been doing already."
Though she thinks he probably has been spinning his wheels in a lot of ways, she's under no illusions that it's due to laziness or boredom. Guilt, self-loathing, and fear are heavy burdens, and the best way to keep them from consuming you is distraction, not inactivity.
"You work a lot, yeah?" She nods at the oven. "You're doing this in your off-time."
Angeal shakes his head. "Nah, assume I've been doing nothing at all, since you're putting off a pretty strong impression that I must be.. I don't know, just sitting in my room all day feeling sorry for myself." The longer they speak the more certain he's becoming that she's gotten ... inaccurate information from somewhere, and has run with it. "You put it out there, so follow through. Zack's using this place as a resource, I'm apparently not, what should I be making use of?"
"Dude, you drummed up an industrial kitchen's worth of potatoes to cook all by yourself; the last thing I think you're doing is sitting around. I think you're probably doing a lot of work to keep yourself from wallowing, but whatever you are, you're not lazy or pathetic. Or the kind of guy who feels sorry for himself."
Self-pity is pretty distinct from self-hatred, after all. She leans back against the counter, crossing her legs at the ankle as she studies him.
"A deal's the kind of thing that's far into the future. You could get one someday, and it could help you out in stopping the progression of this thing, but I'm not gonna ask you to depend on something that's twenty steps ahead of where you are right now. So I'm thinking, step one, we find you some super-powered babysitters - so that if we end up with a flood that lifts whatever the Admiral did that's stopped your infections in its tracks, there'll be people who can help rein you in and keep you contained, without you feeling like your only options are hurting people or dying. Back home, no one's immune. That's not going to be the case here."
There's more to go, but until the first round is finished and he knows how it went, peeling the next wasn't going to work .. they'd just get browned. "Habit," the SOLDIER rumbles. "Been kept busy since I was a kid, hard to stop." Not that he wanted to. Being active was being productive, and it felt nice to be able to do something more meaningful with his time than just sort magazines or something.
Deals would mean graduation and being a Warden and graduating his inmate - that's a long, long way away, assuming the Admiral even offered him the position. Counting on it was a bad idea, and so after a moment of consideration, it's put away. He's content with Zack's four - that's a grand track record. "If the Admiral for some reason lifts constraints, then 'contained' is the best possible option, not a babysitter. The true prisons down below cancel anything supernatural, don't they? If something happens, putting me there is for the best."
He probably won't even put up a fight! "Giving me a superpowered babysitter just risks having a superpowered second Angeal running around. Not really worth it, even if the Admiral can reverse the process."
"I didn't say 'someone immune' just to say it," Shaw says. She pulls down two glasses, setting them next to the whiskey bottle, but doesn't pour just yet. "I don't just mean the Admiral undoing it or bringing people back to life - I'm talking people for whom the laws of physics on your world won't apply. I bet I could find at least three wardens who could do it."
In truth, she can only think of one off the top of her head - but the Admiral nets enough powerful, invulnerable wardens that she's banking on there being a lot more.
Angeal rakes a hand through his hair, leaving bits of cheese behind. He's going to need a shower later. "Unless they also have the power to blanket nullify everyone in their vicinity, you're not ... treating this the way you need to be." There's frustration creeping into his tone, but he's not sure he's going to adequately explain this to someone else in a way that's going to get through.
"You're HOPING they might be immune, you don't actually know, and I'm unwilling to find out the hard way if you're wrong. And even if they're immune, what about everyone else? You need to stop thinking about this as ... something contained to just me, something that can be mitigated with handcuffs or a single magical individual with take-down skills and a sleep spell. Unconstrained by the Admiral, I.. it's an infectious pathogen that has nothing to do with physics to begin with. Stop thinking 'person' and start thinking 'plague'."
Admittedly, blood borne and thus harder to pass on than a common cold; if Hollander could have found a way to turn him or Genesis into an airborne contagion surely he would have just to see what would happen. "Though frankly it's medical I should be discussing that with."
"Good news," she says, lifting a hand and wiggling her fingers at him. "I'm medical. Now, how about you don't assume I'm gonna go about this in the dumbest way possible. We won't assume they're good for this and then spring it on them in the moment, we'll talk to them about it - here and now, before any emergencies happen. If I'm wrong, and if John Doe the all-powerful shapeshifter who doesn't even have to have a body if he doesn't want to says that he'd somehow be susceptible to an infection, then we'll regroup and try something else."
A pause.
"You're not a pathogen. You're infected by a pathogen. And to get you to Zero - which is a good idea - we're going to need that immune person with takedown skills."
"Don't know if the file left it out but it's wired into my DNA, so it's me, not something I'm infected with. Pretending otherwise doesn't help." Part of not being human, he can be part disease AND human shaped! "For someone in medical your ideas of containment and control leave a lot to be worried about, Shaw."
The ovens door is opened slightly to check for color and signs of crispness. "If things progress at the same rate as before I should be reasonably clearheaded for at least a couple of weeks before the impulse gets too strong. I shouldn't need to be forced, just .. kept contained until restrictions resume. Treat me like a plague carrier until then. Those white head to toe suits, all of it."
"It's wired to your DNA, but you're still more than just the pathogen; my point still stands. And maybe at home it would give you that much time, but..."
She shakes her head.
"Floods do all kinds of crazy things. There's no way we can mitigate every single bad thing this place could throw at us, but we can still try, and lining up some people willing and able to non-lethally get control of you is a part of that. I want you to be part of that conversation. And if you wanna do another meeting with medical, that sounds like a solid plan, too."
There's a noncommital grunt. "And I already explained this isn't something you can willpower your way out of, so being a person is in this specific context, kind of meaningless." He'll add the context part this time, just in case.
He's seen a total of one flood directly, with the fog and rust and blood, and it had been .. singularly unpleasant, but Angeal had suffered no direct effects from it. The people around him though.. Cloud, and his pathetic, desperately needy copy.. the things in the dark.. "..If I do talk to someone in medical, and I don't mean you, I want it clean slate. Don't talk to them ahead of time. Preconceived notions can influence diagnostics; if you're told you're looking for a chicken you're not going to be keeping an eye out for chocobos."
"Diagnostics?" Shaw echoes, her brow furrowing. "The hell are you thinking about diagnostics for? You don't need to be diagnosed; you already know what the pathogen is. Shouldn't you be giving them as much intel as you can, up front, without making them try to puzzle it out?"
"Because frankly, Shaw, you don't know as much about what this is as I do and if you talk to someone about it you could send them off on a wild goose chase pursuing the wrong damn thing." Another peek into the oven, it's a good reason to keep his attention on something not his Warden, though his tone's back to tinged with irritation. "I didn't say I wouldn't, just that I don't want YOU to. If you roll in and tell someone all about how I have space flu, and it's actually space cancer, you've just wasted all of our time."
"Got it," she says, giving him a quick nod. "For the record, I don't think it's a flu you can just walk off, I think we should be looking into chemo instead of assisted suicide. But I won't approach them ahead of time, and I'll let you do the talking. I do want to be there, though."
"I'm not going to a doctor appointment with someone who isn't family," Angeal rumbles, though something shifts from irritation to amusement. "I can ask for a recording, or keep one if the communicators let me record, but a lot of medical exams require stripping and we're not that good of friends yet."
Public showers are fine, but physicals are apparently where he draws the line. "I'm sure afterward whoever I speak to will want to go over it all with you anyway."
"I'm not asking to peek in on an actual exam, dude; come on," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm still thinking intervention and prevention here. Giving the medical staff an overview of signs and symptoms to look out for, and working out steps to take if this thing breaks loose on the Barge - that's what I want to be there for. If you want check-ups, that's a good idea too, but that's your business."
It takes him a moment to hunt down a pair of potholders and fish out this particular attempt at hashbrowns with cheese. It smells.. like hashbrowns and cheese, but might not have the crispiness he's after. One way to find out! "I admit I don't know how these kinds of things go on other planets, or even other companies, but at Shinra, you go in for anything, and you're expected to do the entire workup. Blood draws, physical exams, whole nine yards. Even if you're there for a sniffle. Always seemed reasonable to me, but I guess that's not standard?"
"Sure it is," she says, shrugging. "But considering everything we'd been talking about up to this point, I just figured we were talking disaster preparedness debriefings, not doctor's appointments. So why don't we do both - I'm there for the first, and you do the second solo. Deal?"
"...There isn't a difference, you know. It's a doctor appointment to prepare for disaster." It seems like he's willing to relent on it, it wouldn't be the first time he's capitulated.
On the surface. He had zero intention of speaking to an actual doctor with an audience, at least not for the first discussion on it, but he could see the usefulness of it. Tendi's skills were ... thorough, but asking a friend for assistance would bring ethics into it wouldn't it? Doctors were supposed to avoid making patients of their friends and family.. "I'll send Tendi a message. We're.. on agreeable terms, but I'm not sure what her own ethics are about treating friends."
The amount of people who knock on Angeal's door regularly are few, and not people he much has any concerns about, so when there's a knock on the door, his response is a somewhat muffled "It's open!"
It's an invitation enough.
Opening the door takes things immediately back to Banora, still. Even the 'windows' show a view of the landscape around that ruin of a town instead of the eerie space around the Barge. At some point perhaps it would be a good idea to change to something more modern but even six months in he still finds some comfort in the rustic and familiar.
There are six different very large glass jars of at least five gallons each sitting on the table, full of liquid in various shades of yellow, and Angeal himself, in nothing more than sweatpants and a teeshirt, frowning at them with a mason jar in hand as if they've done something to personally disappoint him.
Zack opens the door and…stares. He knew Angeal was prone to picking up side projects, but this…well, it’s something. It reminds him, briefly, of a similar project he did with Warren several years ago. And he briefly wishes the man was still here. If for no other reason than to help him navigate…this.
There’s no helping that, though, so he just…takes a deep breath and steadies himself.
“Hi.” Very smooth, Fair, very cool. “Should I, uh…come back later?”
As the door opens and he turns enough to see who it is, part of him isn't surprised it's Zack. They hadn't exactly left things on good footing. And now with several days inbetween and a couple of pointedly uncomfortable conversations with his Warden later, Angeal.. would be dishonest if he said he'd be looking forward to running into Zack again on anything but a work level.
But he's here now, and he is not told to get out. "No."
He sounds displeased.
Maybe Zack SHOULD-- "I mislabeled one of my jars. It's been sitting much longer than I intended. It might be toxic levels of alcoholic now."
Well, not toxic to a SOLDIER, or someone who still had their durability, but anyone else? The jugs look reasonably similar to each other, in various stages of froth. Only two have no bubbles at all, maybe they're the culprits. "What can I do for you, Zack?"
Thankfully, Zack knows Angeal well enough to understand the bulk of his ire really is directed at the jars. It doesn’t make this exchange any less awkward, which is why…maybe things just need to be kept brief. To a minimum.
Because of that, Zack closes the door behind him but doesn’t really make a move to come very much farther in. Angeal is occupied, and he…doesn’t want to create more of a mess than he’s already made.
So…
“…I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”
He seems uncomfortable saying it - but not because he doesn’t mean it. Everything about this is just…hard.
“I didn’t mean for things to go off the rails like that, and I got mad instead of…actually saying the things I wanted to say.”
A pause. A breath.
“I know it probably didn’t sound like it last time, but…I am glad you’re here, and I’m…sorry. For all that.”
When Angeal moves, it's to uncap one of the jars in a pop and a faint whiff of fermentation, and pour some of the faintly orangeish tinged stuff into the mason jar. He is indeed occupied, and maybe he's best off being left to it?
But the jar is held out instead. "Tell me what you think."
Though he doesn't say which one it is, chances are astronomically high he wouldn't try to poison Zack on purpose. And indeed it just.. tastes like normal alcohol, perhaps with a fruitier edge than most meads have.
It is of course a distraction, as it means while Zack works on drink, he can work on a response. Something beyond kneejerk reaction, that might sound hollow and trite, nothing more than expected replies and nothing truly felt.
"I never really know what to say to that kind of thing." He doesn't have a kitchen to make use of, few if any inmates did, so the next mason jar he finds is just sitting on an end table. "'You're forgiven' always sounds terribly arrogant. 'You have nothing to apologize for' is ... dismissive. I never thought you were angry I was here. ...Hurt, maybe. After so many years having the reminder of it all shoved in your face couldn't be pleasant."
Like ripping open old wounds to bleed anew. "...But you're always forgiven, and you don't have anything to apologize for. I know I can be infuriating; I've made more than my share of mistakes, Gaia knows I have." The jar is rolled around in his hands, as if somewhere on its glass surface could be found all the answers he wanted.
He was thinking about bolting after saying all that, but…well, that’s as clear an invitation to stay as he’s going to get.
He moves up to take the jar, and after taking a taste, he says… “I think it’s definitely going to knock the socks off somebody.”
Tastes good, but…very strong!
As for the rest of it… He can’t help the way his insides twist listening to Angeal. Having Angeal show up again after years was… He had thought he was over it. That he had processed everything that had to do with it a while ago. And instead, he’d received the very rude awakening that, no - he just buried it. Because at the time, there wasn’t any other choice.
He doesn’t know how to convey all that without Angeal putting more blame on himself than he already is, and - he doesn’t want that. So there’s a pause as he…thinks about what to say.
“…it wasn’t just about you. The way I reacted. And that… The last thing I want is to…to say or do something that’s going to make it harder for you to leave here. I don’t…want to be a roadblock. I don’t.”
Because even after Angeal was gone, and even after what he’d done…Zack never stopped missing him.
There are downsides to ignoring a jar meant to stay sealed for twenty days, for the better part of four months. "Mm. I'll bring it to the kitchen, see what we can do with it." There's plenty of people with ridiculously high tolerances on the ship, maybe it's just something to be given to the people to whom the equivalent of a bee created wine cooler would be nothing.
It doesn't need to be said that the weight of Modeoheim still hung heavy, like the metaphorical albatross around their necks.
"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one making it harder for me to leave," he says quietly, putting the jar down finally. "There's this ... gulf of years between us I don't know how to bridge. Just yesterday you were this fresh, eager boy ready to take on the world, and suddenly you're a man grown, with so much time and so much suffering in between. I've contributed to it, even if I never wanted to hurt you."
More than he'd like to think. More than he wanted to dwell on - not just the impact immediate of his own death, but the ripple effects it had later. How much could he have prevented, or changed?
Angeal's sorry too - but apologies.. would be hollow in the face of what he'd done. There was no walking it back, not really. "But there is a point.. where if you have an abscess, no matter how much it hurts, it needs to be opened and it needs to be drained or it'll never heal. There's a lot I probably don't wanna hear, but I still probably need to. What .. had you wanted to say? What was it really about?"
Zack chews on that question for a little while. Because more than anything…he wants to be clear without somehow making any of this worse. He’s gone over things in his head multiple times since their last conversation, and it’s… He doesn’t want to explain any of it wrong.
He takes another sip of the mead (why not, he’s not getting drunk off it) and…gathers his thoughts.
“I’ve had…a lot of time. To think about how things happened. With you and Sephiroth and Genesis. And the only reason I really wanted to tell you about Nibelheim…was because I wanted you to understand the conclusion I ended up at. After thinking about it for a long time.”
He takes a breath…and goes on.
“I fought all three of you. Not because I wanted to - but because none of you gave me a choice. And that happened…because all three of you decided the same thing. That you weren’t human anymore. That you were…monsters. And as a result…you decided to die. Genesis decided to take the company with him. And Sephiroth…he decided everything needed to burn.”
All three chose the path of destruction. In differing degrees, of course, but the result was a dead end.
“I’m not saying that to say I don’t…understand why. I do. I know. It’s why even after…even after our fight, I couldn’t hold a grudge or…or hate you. For any of it.”
He saw what the degradation did to Genesis, to the copies. He knows Angeal had engineered his own way out to avoid that fate.
“We can’t take any of it back. That’s not going to happen. But the point of this place isn’t to…to take things back. It’s…it’s to figure out how to move forward. And I told Sephiroth here a long time ago that…until he was willing to choose a different way - a way that wasn’t constantly trying to threaten or inflict pain on people…nothing was going to change. This place is…designed to make certain things possible that wouldn’t be back home. So until you can…you can reckon with that idea. And find a way to reach a different conclusion about yourself…we’re going to end up where we were before. And that…”
Zack looks down and blinks. Several times.
“Now that you’re here, I don’t…I don’t want to lose you again.”
It hurt so much the first time, and he really can’t bear the idea of losing Angeal again.
Though Angeal keeps quiet, there's a flicker of something in his expression that only lasts a moment. That would be a fundamental disagreement if he spoke on it, as if it had been a decision made by themselves that any of them weren't human. That decision had been taken from them all before birth. It wasn't a matter of perception, it was a matter of fact. There's no other conclusion to be reached about what he was.
He doesn't say so. It wouldn't help. Especially not in the face of the rest.
The purpose of this place made losing him inevitable, whether he spent months or years. Sooner or later he'd graduate, or be otherwise removed from the ship, and chances were good they wouldn't wind up on the same planet afterward, in the same time.
When all was said and done, even with the best possible outcome, Angeal would inevitably hurt him again. He would leave. And this time his absence would be permanent. Had accepting the Admiral's offer been the wrong choice?
Images blur, as he studies Zack. The boy he was and the man he is overlap in distortion, the years between one and the other erased enough where for a moment he could fool himself into thinking no time had passed and it was the same stricken face that watched him on the ground, trying to muster the strength to lift the Buster Sword by its hilt one last time.
The cabin's small. Inmates don't get larger accommodations unless they're far bigger than even he is, but it doesn't take much to cross the few steps between and reach a calloused hand out for one shoulder, as careful as ever but grip warm. Consolation? Commiseration? "...I'm sorry, Zack."
What happened to Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth before they were even born was evil. And Zack will never be able to think that they’re somehow less human or more monstrous than the scientists who committed these crimes against them.
In the end, though, he knows he can’t do anything to convince Angeal of that. He never could. And it was the same with all three of them. It didn’t matter what he said or did, or how much he begged them…they chose their paths and wouldn’t be moved from them.
It’s why he can’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he just feels the composure he does have crumble under the light weight of the other’s hand.
Words fail. He puts the jar down, and that’s the only warning Angeal’s going to get before a teary-eyed Zack hurls himself at him. For a long-overdue hug.
Angeal does not live in a world where someone else being worse somehow makes his own actions better. It didn't even begin to absolve what they themselves had done. What he had done.
That's why he's here at all. The lifestream had been willing to take him, he'd felt no suffering, no pain, only the welcoming pull of knowing his mother and father were waiting, but there were things.. he couldn't let go of. And a part of that was definitely Zack.
Maybe one of the biggest parts. Death being irrevocable meant he couldn't do anything about it then, and he could make some measure of peace with it, especially with the fog of degradation making it seem like just the right decision.
Even without that regret he wouldn't have pushed Zack away. He catches the only marginally smaller man easily (and will never admit the half-step back is from a lack of power these days), and maybe it was a long overdue hug, because he's also not letting go any time soon. Even if his grip is tight, he doesn't have the strength thanks to the Admiral to make it painful, not to a SOLDIER.
Genesis was gone. Sephiroth was gone, the man he is now a stranger in his skin.
It's hard to describe what he feels in this moment. What it means to him to have this. To really...have Angeal back.
He knows things can't be like they were. Too much has happened, and like Angeal said before, there's a gulf of years and experiences between them. Zack is never going to be that energetic, undisciplined teenager again...and they're never going to have the same relationship they had in SOLDIER.
But that...it doesn't matter. Because Zack knows the reason why he was able to hold the line. To remain strong even when it seemed like the entire world was crumbling all around him.
It's because of this man. His mentor. His friend. His...family. And whatever sins Angeal had to his name didn't change that immutable fact.
So Zack holds him tight for as long as Angeal with allow. And even though there are tears and quiet sobs...he's relieved. He's happy. He knows they're in for a bumpy ride, of course...but just having this opportunity is more than he ever dared to hope for.
There's a part of him that still feels responsible for Zack, that he must find the cause of distress and do something about it even though the man is grown now and has been getting along just fine without him for years.
And he's the cause, this time. Zack had always bounced back quickly. A less than flawless mission, training that wasn't going as expected, trouble with one thing or another ... but those were different.
Minor. The worries of a child. He could fool himself, if he closed his eyes and disregarded where they were, think that time had somehow turned back and something not-him had gone terribly wrong. But those days were past. It takes a while before Angeal says anything, waiting until tears begin to run out, waiting until he can trust his own voice to be reasonably calm and steady.
He's grown up now; that much is true. But just because he's been living his life without Angeal for years doesn't mean he didn't miss him. Or that Zack ever stopped wishing he could talk to him just one more time - especially when things got hard.
It does feel strange being a Warden with Angeal being the Inmate, but... It feels like...they really can get through it. Maybe not for a while - but he believes it'll happen.
The tears do finally run dry, and Zack...pulls back a little. There's a sheepish expression on his face, but...he seems lighter than before.
There's meaning in one being a warden and the other an inmate, somewhere; Zack made the right decisions, when things came down to it. Angeal .. did not.
Things should have never happened this way. Zack shouldn't have been forced to do the things he'd had to do, and he knew it, no matter how sensible it had seemed at the time. Any meeting here should have been on different terms. But should have beens don't affect what actually happened, and Angeal is reluctant to let go.
He will, but it doesn't mean he wants to. "Don't worry about it, I get messier in the kitchens." A little tears and sogginess are really not a big deal versus what he's capable of coming home with after dinner rush.
"...Zack. I may regret the things I did, and I think I always will. But I want to be clear." He never quite edges into stern, it's not about that, but there's a certain firmness to his tone anyway - this is important to him. "I have never once regretted you. You were always the right choice."
[There's no text with the message Angeal receives from Cloud. Just a photo he took with his communicator. Two familiar black-haired fellows, one having wrapped his arms around the other, just...standing there in the middle of the deck.
That's right. Vincent Valentine is getting hugged. By the sunshiniest man on the planet.]
When it's a new arrival, it's usually because they think they can fight their way out; the Admiral's crap at intake and never brings anybody up to speed before throwing them in the deep end.
When it's somebody who's been here a while - it's usually because they're pissed off, and they aren't thinking about the long-term; they just want to make people hurt.
If you need extra hands I'm willing to help wrangle whoever's up to trouble, otherwise I can stay put or wander down to medical and see if they need a hand with potential survivors. Hopefully it's a new arrival who just doesn't know better yet. ... Doesn't make it better ..
[After going through about as much of Sheehan's most recent network post as she can stand, Shaw is restless. She paces in her cabin and stares daggers at her warden item, keeping a close eye on Angeal's little tracking dot - and the moment she sees that he's anywhere but a private cabin or the kitchen area (that is, not working, and also somewhere public), she heads out to find him. Once she does, she positions herself nearby (seated a few feet away if he's sedentary, or falling into step beside him if he's not), and says without preamble:]
What were your favorite and least favorite things about working for Shinra? I'm thinking one of each, but if you've got more, hit me with 'em.
[Angeal's got a nice comfortable routine. He does his work, he returns to his cabin, he heads to do some working out or reading in the library.. it's almost monotonous!
This time of day, midweek, that's heading for the library; he's no doctor and knows BEANS about a lot of doctor things, but trying to get better educated about virology can only help. Having Shaw turn up seemingly out of nowhere as he heads for the endless towering shelves is not alarming; somewhere on the way she'd shifted rather permanently from stranger to Not.
The question however is a bit of a surprise.]
Hm. I liked that we were helping people. A lot of what we did was straight up good for folks. Getting rid of marauding monsters, helping on dangerous cleanup or even sometimes construction that could make use of our strength.
[He's thoughtful; this isn't something that's come up much.]
Can't say I cared much for the Wutai war though. If Wutai didn't want cheap power and modern convenience, that was their right. Forcing it on them.. that's a lot of dead people just to bring sanitation and medicine to the survivors.
[She doesn't respond immediately, which is common for her - a lot of talking isn't a big strength of hers, no matter how much she's come to see the value of it in wardening. She runs her fingers along a row of book spines, the way someone would if they were searching the stacks, but her eyes are still on Angeal.]
Sounds a little like... I haven't told you about Samaritan, have I.
I suck at personal chit-chat, so it's probably the only way you're going to get much intel on me. But, uh-- Samaritan. You know what artificial superintelligences are?
Yeah, I know. Wasn't sure you actually meant it though.
[He's gotten better at that; Shaw was easier than most people in that respect. What she said and what she meant were pretty much the same.
Unlike a lot of others.]
I know what normal AI is, so I can guess what a super-intelligence is, but no firsthand experience. When it comes to machines, is that human level or beyond it?
Mm, more like the people who started out in control if it gave over that control willingly. They figured humans had messed up the planet badly enough while we were in charge that we should give the AIs a crack at it.
[She pulls another virology book of the shelf, but upon closer inspection, this one seems to be solely about disease transmission in an alien species that she's never even heard of, let alone seen on the Barge. She slides it back into place.]
Turns out that those methods weren't so different from Shinra's. Your whole thing kinda reminds me of an unholy cross between Samaritan's idea of a new world order, and the work I used to do for the government.
Objectively, morality aside, as I can't imagine a machine can handle morality easily, was it effective? Did it actually help people and the planet?
[Maybe he should consider some self-help books on gaining a better science education before jumping right into the fine mechanics of things. As it is this might take a long time, especially given the realities the likes of Tendi are from are FAR more advanced than anything he understands.
But he's got something to work with. Alien xenoplagues!
It's a work of science fiction. He hasn't noticed yet.]
I feel like something like that might decide eradicating mankind is the quickest way to ensuring planetary survival.
[He can imagine something like that running through Shinra's mainframes. What would it take to remove an AI that didn't want to be removed? The question about fiction is puzzling, give him a minute to piece together why she's asking.]
How hard is something like that to ferret out of a modern infrastructure without tearing yourselves back into pre-industrial civilization?
[The book is weighed, but only in a distracted sort of way, the possibilities of such an artificial intelligence and what it could do has a way of grabbing the imagination.
After a moment, he shakes his head.]
No, ideally just science. I don't know a damn thing about any of this, fiction would just muddy the ..
[Hnm, that's not a dewey decimal sticker on the side.]
[Indeed it does not. Sorry, Angeal; apparently, the fact that the library contains multitudes has its downsides. There's a hell of a lot of stuff here to sift through.]
We got lucky. For one thing, we got in on the fight early on; it wasn't anywhere near as entrenched as the AI system last month.
[the SOPHIA system from the breach, she means.]
And for another thing - we had a different AI on our side. One that was just as smart and just as powerful, but that respected human autonomy above everything else.
[Cloud was not originally going to include Angeal on this little tour of weird personal announcements, but he remembers Angeal's attempts at helpfully meddling, and back then he'd said some things that make Cloud think he might like to know the, uh...developments. And considering circumstances, he also thinks Angeal is one of the least likely to have a problem with those developments. So...]
Hey, Angeal. You got a minute? Got something I want to tell you. Figured it's the kind of thing you'd want to know.
[There's a long pause, and then ... a sigh. It sounds heavy.]
You didn't ask, but I'm gonna give you some advice anyway, alright?
[He sounds utterly serious.]
Take it slow. For both your sakes. You have a chance to build something really lasting if you're so inclined, and a slipshod rush job can have serious consequences later. Take your time, and find out what you both like, and what you don't like, together and apart. You got all the time in the world here, and that's a precious opportunity. And...
[And Cloud listens carefully to the advice. He has a few questions about what Angeal's said, but he's going to hold off until he knows the man is finished.]
....Look, I'll be honest as I can be without sounding silly. I'm pretty sure you're the first, ever, that he's cared for like this, and near as I can tell he's barely even made friends on the Barge since arriving here after his deaths, never mind really re-learning what he likes and doesn't.
[The hesitation is there still, but he's plowing on anyway!! Is this a good idea? Is any of it a good idea?]
If you think this is the man you want to build a life with ... then you're going to have to teach him how to live. Really live, have a dream and reach for it with all he has. There's so much wonder and joy to be found in the world and he's lost touch with that.. except for you, maybe. And if he can find that in you, then you can help him find it in everything else. I'm not sure anyone else can, anymore.
[The first ever. Well, technically true, but also technically not, as Cloud now knows. The first was the other version of him who was here before, and that started during a breach. But Cloud also knows that it's him Sephiroth is - was always - focused on, thinking of, and for the purposes of what Angeal's saying, it might not really matter anyway.
Build a life with, huh? Angeal's not the first to pose the question that way, although Zack didn't put it in quite those terms. Cloud told Zack yes, he could see a way forward with the person Sephiroth is now, and that hasn't changed. He knows there are important questions they'll need to answer once they've both graduated - once they both have lives to build - but he feels pretty confident that he's not going to change his mind. Frankly, he has a hard time imagining a life without Sephiroth in it.
Maybe that's part of why he felt so unsatisfied, so listless, after Meteorfall was over and the rebuilding began. Even when Sephiroth was the enemy...he was always there.
Angeal's words resonate with thoughts Cloud's had before. It's why he asked the Admiral for something Sephiroth had always wanted, back during the holidays. It's why he took Sephiroth riding with him for their first actual date. And it's why he keeps hounding Sephiroth about having opinions of his own, wanting things for himself.
And more selfishly...Sephiroth is the only one who makes Cloud feel truly wanted. Needed. If he can do what Angeal's describing, help Sephiroth find wonder and joy and dreams again, live up to the way Sephiroth sees him - then he wants to, more than anything. He wants to be worthy of the limitless trust that Sephiroth seems to put in him like no one else does anymore.]
...I will. I've been trying, but the Barge is... [A pause.] No. No buts. I'll try harder. As hard as I can. I'm not going to let Sephiroth down. I promise.
This ship.. makes things more complicated in some ways, doesn't it?
[Sephiroth isn't the kind of person to casually date. If he's chosen to invest himself, and was ANYTHING like the man he used to be, then he was going to be planning long term.
Longer than the Barge.
But it isn't .. just about Sephiroth. He's observed Cloud for a while too, and it wasn't hard to tell that the blond needed SOMETHING in his life.. 'meaning' was perhaps too trite, but everyone needed a focus, and he didn't seem to have one. That this focus is the man who ruined his life was ..well, strange, but love worked in strange ways.]
Don't forget this is about you too. What you want, your happiness. I'm hoping that you'll have some things in common on that angle and can enjoy them together. But if you start sacrificing just because you care about someone .. you're gonna wind up unhappy. And that's how relationships end.
In some ways. But if it wasn't for this ship, I never would've been able to talk to him and work things out like we did. So, net positive, heh.
[It's not a joke, but it's not overly serious, either.
Cloud takes a moment to consider what Angeal's said.]
Right. I wouldn't worry too much about me - Sephiroth's determined to focus on what I want no matter what I say, because he doesn't think he wants anything. I know he's wrong, and I'll prove it to him. But - thanks, Angeal. I'll keep it in mind, too.
Hi. We haven't met, but I was talking with Aerith and she mentioned there's a new Banora apple tree in the greenhouse. She said you might have a good idea of what we can do with the fruit when it grows. I'm only familiar with Earth apples, so I wasn't sure if these would cook the same way.
Well that's some unexpected good news! I assume some kind of magic will be used to make it grow to maturity? It usually takes a good twenty years. You can treat them like an earth "honeycrisp" generally, except expect it to spoil much faster when off the tree. Leave it on the tree and it can last months.
My good friend back home invented a process by which to preserve them for transport elsewhere but I'm not that kind of clever, I'm afraid.
Definitely some kind of magic. Or something close enough, as far as I can tell. There isn't any fruit yet, but there might be some a lot sooner than we think.
Leave it on the tree until we need it, got it - I'll tell the Greenhouse staff, too. We wouldn't want to lose a crop to a simple mistake like that.
Well, we have some pretty clever people on board. Honestly, it wouldn't be a bad idea to work on ways to preserve food, period, given that we can run into unexpected shortages. Especially these days.
On the bright side, you can't lose a crop, just whatever's ready to pick at any given time. We call them "dumbapples" back home because they don't have a regular season. They'll flower year round, and fruit year round, as they please.
Banora didn't really have much of a winter, so no dormancy.
Especially after what we saw on the Narrenchiff, yeah? I'd be happy to help in any way I can. Know plenty about preserving stuff the old fashioned way, if I can get my hands on a pressure cooker.
Oh really? That's pretty interesting. And especially good for us, then.
That's the most recent example, yes, but not the only one. But that's good to know, too - I know a little, but we never really had an overabundance of food to actually practice on, growing up. Would you be willing to show me, if we can find one to work with?
What can I say, we like our trees weird and unpredictable.
I'd be happy to show you what I know. Nothing brings people together like good food. What's your name? I'm helping with breakfast this week but that means I've got all afternoon free; I'll bother Archer about if there's pressure cookers around.
I'm Steve - Steve Rogers. I actually work the dinner shift, I just never thought to look for any pressure cookers. I guess I'm used to doing things the old-fashioned way.
Archer definitely knows more about the kitchen and what it has than just about anybody I can think of, though.
Good to meet you, Steve. I thought pressure cookers WERE the old-fashioned way! Anything with electricity is too new-fangled, I'll show you what we can do with some good steel and steam if I get the chance.
I'll see if he knows where I can get the right kind. Ideally with the little jiggly top. If Archer doesn't know, it's not on board.
Well, maybe I should've said old-fashioned and poor. We never had enough money for anything fancy.
That sounds good, though - let me know if he can't find something, and I guess we'll see what else we can manage. Or keep an eye out during the next port that's likely to have cooking appliances.
Huh, canning in an oven. Never tried that. Meat was a bit easier to get than fruit, we could just go hunting the local monsters. Of which there always seemed to be an endless supply..
Nope, not from Earth! But ordinary is ordinary, whether it's labeled Earth or Gaia. I like to think some things are universal, like yard sales and pressure cookers.
That'd be the difference. Not so many opportunities to hunt in the city where I grew up. But also fewer monsters, it seems.
[That does make him laugh, even though it can't come through over text.]
Isn't that the truth. It's nice to find things that seem to be universal truths, though. People are always people, no matter where they're from, I think.
[It might not be very reassuring, the way that draws startled laughter out of Angeal. It doesn't last long though.]
I, erm. I can't say I know anything of the exploits of the man he is today, but as I understand it, he's in a relationship with someone currently! I'm .. hm, I honestly don't know if anyone qualifies currently as what he might call a friend in the way I'd usually define it.
[Does Angeal approve of Sephiroth growing a relationship? Yep. Is he fine with it being Cloud? Also yep. He might be missing some details of why this might be problematic.]
Prickly, huh?
[Not to him! Not yet!]
...I was, yes. For many years. He was and always will be very important to me, even if he doesn't remember it himself.
He just needs a little encouragement. A little teasing and pushing can't hurt.
[Maybe it'd even help. Once upon a time he'd have been relentless in doing just that, but then..]
We met when we were teenagers, and were friends, I think, until my death. The man he was then is not the man he is now, and it's unwise to pursue it too closely. He deserves a life as he is, without being haunted by a past he won't enjoy.
[Which is putting it MILDLY, after the things Shinra had done.]
But I'm afraid to say he hadn't exactly had a lot of romance beforehand either! So that's one similarity. He just.. wasn't interested. Women and men would certainly throw themselves at him, but none of them ever caught his interest. Shinra would arrange 'dates' to look good for photo ops, but that's about it.
[He hums thoughtfully.]
I guess it's why I'm so thrilled he's interested in Cloud. First person he's ever been keen on romantically, I think.
It's Cloud's first real romance too, isn't it? A lot of first loves don't last, but I don't want to ring the death bell before they've even gotten off the ground. They both have a lot to overcome.
Not everyone matures at the same rate, he seems about right for someone his age to me. Maybe.. a bit less stupidly reckless while trying to impress his friends than expected.
[Angeal spent years around adolescent SOLDIERs, his sense of what is normal is badly warped.]
The... catatonia spells aren't really a surprise, if it's any reassurance. It's not my medical history to tell, but as long as he keeps pulling back out of them, it should be alright.
[He sounds extremely confident in that. But explaining why.. not as likely.]
His closeness with his friends will help if it happens again.
[By degrees his tone turns thoughtful.]
Is this really about Sephiroth's experience, or are you worried about someone, anyone taking advantage of Cloud? Maybe even someone he likes?
It's true. Maybe it's just because he seems more...I don't know. Like the teenagers? Though, it's true that I haven't seen him do something real stupid like a teen would.
[Like a hot sauce challenge or cliff diving or something.]
Angeal...I'm not going to ask his medical history. Or his story. But the fact is...depending on what's up, he might not one day.
I'd hate it if someone felt they had to give him mercy. He seems...decent. But if his friends can pull him back- all the better.
...you know...it could be a little of both. And I'm worried about Sephiroth not being able to handle...well, if things go badly, one way or another with Cloud.
Not because Cloud can't handle it. The reason I was asking about his romantic experience is that- well.
I was a bit of a late bloomer myself, romance-wise. And I know, for me? Rejection, fights, all of it can wreck you if you never learned how to handle it.
So he'd be about right then, somewhere between adult and teenager..? I can't judge based on what other worlds are like, I admit.
[There's a lot he could say. That it's a miracle Cloud can string two words together. That it's possible he'll relapse and never come out of it at all, thanks to it being a miracle he ever did in the first place.
What he thinks about Sephiroth's views on Cloud. What he thinks will happen if things go badly.
He doesn't. Though the rest of the reply takes a while to come up with, implying he's at least thinking about a lot of SOMETHING.]
I think it'd always wreck someone.. and the first can be hardest. But I can say with certainty that if Sephiroth is anything like he used to be, then Cloud is never going to be safer than when Sephiroth is with him. His loyalty, once given, was absolute.
[The sound of a slow exhale, almost a sigh.]
All his life he's been expected to fight and kill when told to. He was very good at it. But now, this place has given him something to protect for the first time. I think it'll do him good. Maybe even be the key to getting off the ship.
Ah, Young Adult. I mean, my view is kinda skewed because I'm old, si.
[She chuckles quietly. She'd only worry more for Cloud if she knew how vulnerable he had been the past few years.
She's quiet for a minute or two, thinking of what Angeal said.]
A killing tool, huh. And one likely fawned over in the public eye, touched and expected to be little more than a doll, perhaps.
[She hums.]
I appreciate your candor, especially since this came out of nowhere. Thank you Angeal. I hope...him making the choice will make a difference for him, in the long run.
Cloud's a good guy. I know he is. And Sephiroth ... used to be. One of the best. I'm a little biased in hoping maybe Cloud can bring the best out in him again.
[Not that kind of a relationship.. but one that should have lasted a lifetime anyway. He sounds cheerful enough about it.
But Genesis is gone, and Sephiroth doesn't remember. It's shaken off quickly before it can become melancholy.]
I don't think Seph's had a reason, since coming here, to bother to try. He's got a reason now. We all need something to motivate us, you know? I'll be rooting for both of them, either way. If nothing else comes out of his boat trip, maybe at the end of it they'll still have that.
[Look he'll wear comfortable clothes everywhere else but boots are a necessity, he's stepped on too many nails and kicked too many rocks to EVER go without a good pair if he can avoid it.
And he does turn up eventually, in utterly ordinary teeshirt and jeans, fairly standard for when he's not in uniform even in their own world. Here, it'll blend in just fine, heavy combat boots and all.
Later on he'll head out with Shaw, she needed some rest and relaxation too and he would FIND a way to make sure she got some, but until then.. sightseeing!]
[And no need to work on any kind of real disguise in order to blend in! It's pretty much all human! ... Except for all the ones that aren't, a few picked out even at a distance. Huh. He hadn't had the impression a modern day Earth was interstellar.
If either of them get any looks it's probably going to be because they are considerably more fit than most people attending Stockwood.]
Music thing, I heard. But the venue really doesn't look like any kind of concert I've ever been to. Ships like ours or just.. travelling folks?
Might find out just by keeping an eye on what's going on.
[He's content with that. Blatant eavesdropping, seeing what people are doing. There's no need to rush, surely. There's time to slow down a little and take their time getting questions answered.
Maybe enjoy some music.]
Can't say I've ever been to a block party, so this should be new all around. Let me know if you spot anyone selling carrot fritters.
I'm not going to pretend it's glamorous or exciting, but let's play pest control
[This is her assuming that he's been out enough to notice the problem on his own; if he hasn't, then, well. What a wild message to receive without the proper context, huh?]
Ok, got it. We're gonna want to raid the cleaning supplies if you can get access, a good tile cleaner kills just as fast as dedicated bug spray for some reason, and bonus things get clean afterward.
Most other cleaners too for that matter. Are the spiders venomous do you know? Should I get gloves?
[But he's going to be squishing as he goes. And spraying; he's not kidding about ordinary cleaners doing a remarkable job on the things, and the faint smell of bleach precedes his appearance like a chemical shroud.]
[Shaw appears with... a gun. She does also have a bottle of cleaner, as per his suggestion, but that is definitely a handgun in her other hand. She hasn't yet come across a spider nest that she can blast into the next life, but hope springs eternal.]
My warden item doesn't give me access to the custodial stuff, so this is from my cabin.
[She lifts her spray bottle, wiggling it.]
Right now the custodial crew's just, uh-- Rovia and another woman, I think. Don't know her name, but I'd recognize her if I saw her; we'll see if we can waylay one of them.
Shaw has never had so much as a cold here outside of death tolls, and given that she hasn't just recently died, she is highly suspicious that something is up when she wakes up in the morning and feels like absolute crap. Hauling herself out of bed and splashing some water on her face does nothing; neither does having some leftover white rice for breakfast. The steady undercurrent within her that's urging her to Go, go, go is the only other anomaly, and she quickly finds that when she listens to it (by approaching the door, by opening the door, by stepping out into the hallway), the malaise decreases by degrees. She may not know the why here, but the what isn't hard to figure out. God. Fine.
Without bothering to change out of the tank top and sweatpants that she'd slept in, she slips on some shoes and heads down from Level 1.
Weakness and dizziness are usually treated with food. When that doesn't work, he can A. tough it out or B. head to medical and see if they have any theraflu before things get out of hand. That someone might have brought something onboard doesn't surprise him at all. The decision to go to medical might have something to do with that vague, persistent compulsion to find Shaw.
She's not going to be there this early, it's not her day. Tendi might be, and that's just as good, isn't it? But even heading in the right direction seems to ease some of the wholly unwelcome feeling a little; Shaw will eventually be headed down, but Angeal's headed up, the infirmary - and her cabin - are both a few floors higher.
It's like playing Hot and Cold with his own dizziness, sticking close to walls in case the feeling suddenly gets worse. By the time he actually reaches level 2, she might well be arriving at about the same time.
She is indeed; in fact, they very nearly meet in the stairwell, with her just about to step inside as he rounds the corner to come down. And the moment he's in sight, the moment he's within arm's reach, the feeling of malaise starts to lift - not all the way, but enough for her to put two and two together. Her eyes narrow.
There are some things Angeal's learned to come to expect from the Barge.
Enforced closeness is not part of it. He rather liked that the Admiral seemed to be content to let people do whatever they want whenever they want, and this did not qualify. As Shaw arrives, and relief from the worst of the flulike misery washes over him, he reaches .. possibly the same conclusion about the same time she does.
And puts it to the test by closing the rest of the gap, at least until comfortable conversation distance. There's still a personal bubble which must be minded, and he's keeping track of feeling versus proximity as he does it. "... Aren't we a bit early for the usual monthly shenanigans? That'd make it some passenger, wouldn't it?"
"Toss-up," she says, with a shrug. "I wouldn't rely on a schedule for floods, but, uh-- people causing trouble isn't a bad bet, either. How are you feeling? My head's still a little woozy."
Without consciously thinking about it, she takes a step forward, closing the already-short distance between them by another few feet.
One hand rises, makes a so-so gesture. "Bit like the seasonal flu's coming on, but I haven't gotten sick since I was a kid." And it's getting markedly better every step she takes, in fact, as if somehow Shaw herself is the tylenol to all his troubles this morning.
Maybe she is. A perk of being one of the ship's medics? Or something else? "It's getting better though. Are you running a temperature?" Angeal will immediately stop if there's a protest but it's almost automatic to reach just a little bit further to test her forehead the way his parents did to him countless times throughout his life. "I know where Vincent keeps all the fever reducers."
"No," she says, just as his hand connects with her forehead; barely half a second passes before she says, "Oh."
The sick feeling is gone - evaporated into thin air, just like that. Not even a trace of it remains; she feels completely normal.
"There's no way we can do this for a whole week," she says, even though she's absolutely positive that that is exactly what they're going to have to do.
No temperature, and instantly, no more feeling of creeping disorientation and unpleasantness. It's like contact alone just entirely erased--
Oh. A week. She catches onto it a little sooner than he does. Angeal's expression shifts slowly from surprise to consternation, as the implication of what's going on finally actually sinks in. "Think it'll last a week? Depends on what's causing it."
The ship, or someone on the ship - sometimes all it took was finding the right inmate and tossing them in Zero. "...We should.. probably find out exactly how bad this is."
"I'm thinking about the worst-case scenario," she says dryly. Which is true, but also--
"This feels like the Admiral's doing. Forcing wardens and inmates to stick close? That's an on-the-nose enforced bonding experience if I've ever heard one. Somebody's powers running amok would've, I dunno, forced us to slaughter each other or something."
With the slow caution of someone testing something they suspect is going to be unpleasant, Angeal backs up a couple of steps. Not enough to be crippling, but enough that the feeling of malaise returns.
And then a bit more shuffling to find out where, exactly, is tolerable without being in direct contact. "I'm not sure that's actually going to be effective, but aliens don't necessarily see things the way we do." The Admiral was, distinctly, alien.
Effective or not, Shaw's doing the same thing: shuffling backwards inch by inch, feeling out their limits here.
"I can handle a lot," she says, frowning down at her feet. "But, uh, I hate to say it - I think we should be crippling ourselves as little as possible here."
"I don't really intend to have you in touching range while I wipe my backside if I can help it," the SOLDIER says mildly; it doesn't take too long to determine what is and is not easily functional, and further isn't yet necessary. "I'd rather know now than find out later during some potential emergency."
Tolerable is still much closer than most people were comfortable with. A week would be... irritating, but not much more than that if they were careful about distances, based on his rough estimate. This was going to take planning around.
Shaw snorts, but doesn't disagree; just because she's had plenty of experience with co-ed communal bathrooms doesn't mean she's actively looking to repeat the experience.
"Okay." She angles her head towards the far end of the hallway that she'd come from. "Let's see how it holds up through walls and doors, then. My cabin's right down there."
Taking a shower was fine. Anything else was.. more personal somehow. "Alright. Even in my own cabin it didn't feel like I was going to pass out or anything, so it's unlikely to be a problem if we're locked on other sides of a door, just.. unpleasant maybe."
But it's best to find out. Since Shaw's one of the medical personnel on the ship, there are things he simply can't be there for if it comes up; he'd be in the way, and privacy is a thing for any medical profession. He's minding the distance between them when he heads for Shaw's quarters though, there's no need to test how miserable it is on the way there too.
Shaw's thoughts are, reluctantly, the same; as much as she'd like to feel this out more, they should focus on one thing at a time. So she walks along in silence, making sure to neither outpace him nor let him outpace her as they make their way to level 1. In theory, it's a balance that she should be used to, but the extremity of it trips her up. Walking so close that she keeps accidentally brushing her elbow with him is new. So is the undeniable relief she feels every time it happens.
With a defeated sigh, she reaches out and curls her fingers loosely around his forearm.
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weartearrust) wrote2024-07-10 05:31 am
[drunk text time]
[Yeah, that's...that's it. No leadup, no further explanation. Just that, out of nowhere, around 10pm.]
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Sephiroth Fact #3669: he doesn't use the whole bottle every time, that's only after particularly grimy experiences.
Logistics is told otherwise.
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And over texting of all things. It should at least rate an email.
[text] -> [audio]
[Cloud sure as hell is not going to write a drunk email, so he just calls Angeal instead. Ring ring...]
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[The communicator is stated at as it begins to ring. Very, very slowly he pushes a button.]
Yes?
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[There's a certain careful slowness to Cloud's speech that suggests he is perhaps not firing on all cylinders.]
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Angeal continues to eye his communicator extremely dubiously.]
Are you sure you're awake enough for this kind of conversation?
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[A pause.]
Angeal. Have you seen Sephiroth drunk.
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Officially, no, that kind of thing would end with a trail of destruction a mile wide and is frowned upon.
[Officially. Is Cloud too unsober to read between the lines?]
Sephiroth isn't normally capable of getting drunk. None of us are. Why don't you get some sleep, and I'll try to remember everything I can that you might find interesting about Sephiroth in the meantime.
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[Not quite!]
...oh, right. Ugh, stupid.
[Directed at himself, of course.]
Told you. Not tired. Can't ask Sephiroth cuz he'd just say he doesn't have emotions or something. Whatever.
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[A pause that's much too long, as he tries to do mental math.]
Buncha years ago. I was six--no, fifteen. Way before my life went to shit.
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Alright then. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, come down to the kitchens. I'll make you something that'll help with the side effects you'll be feeling and we can talk then.
['Bright and early' he knows will be 'whenever Cloud can scrape himself off the floor'.]
Do you have a friend to stay with tonight? Zack maybe?
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[An immediate kneejerk reaction when Angeal mentions Zack.]
Don't tell Zack I did this. ...uh, please.
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[So who else, then? Someone needed to keep tabs on Cloud, obviously. Sephiroth might, he seemed fond of him in his own bizarre way. What about the vampire?]
Someone else, then?
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[Cloud rolls his eyes, not that Angeal can see it.]
I'm fine.
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[But Cloud has no intention of letting Zack see him like this. Sorry, Angeal, he's a sad, self-loathing sort of drunk.]
What about you? You volunteering?
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[...Except what the hell does he have on hand to keep a drunk occupied? He surveys his small room with a frown.]
Hope you like card games.
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[Since when?]
I like card games. Pretty much any games. Haven't played any in...a while. But--
[He pauses and someone else says something further from the communicator. He puts it down and says something back, and a minute or so goes by where he's having some conversation. And then...more time goes by. Did he...did he forget he was in the middle of a call?
Yup. He sure did.]
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As the silence stretches on, Angeal gives a soft, very weary sigh and picks up his communicator, typing in a different name as he heads for the door.]
Video
It looks like you and I are paired for the month. Do you need anything? [Avalon knows they should say something else, considering they have no idea who Angeal is, but their mind is blank. After a moment of staring into the camera, no obvious expression on their face, they cut the feed.]
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[Angeal doesn't know many at all onboard and Avalon is a completely new face. Maybe it'll be a relief that he seems perfectly willing to cooperate.]
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[He does seem cooperative.] My name is fine. If you would like to meet in person, I can do that.
My job is to keep you from harming anyone. I have no access to your file, so this can be anything you want. [They see themself as more of a partner than a superior.]
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[Something Avalon says seems to amuse him, but he hides the smile back under sobriety quickly.]
Unless I'm attacked, I'm not going to harm anyone willingly. I don't think I have access to my file either, so I can't offer it, but maybe I can answer any questions you have.
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[They notice the flicker of amusement, but have no idea what caused it.] I think a common room would be a good place to meet. [They would rather not let a random person into their cabin, and immediately violating his privacy seems ill-advised.] Any level would work for me, though I believe one of the Level 5 common rooms has had its couch stolen.
Your permanent warden would be the one needing to look into your past, not me. This is only temporary, so I am more here for you than the other way around. For example, if you need something from home, I may be able to get it for you. [Rawne waited for them to ask for their powers back. They plan to do the same.]
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[And he's already making the assumption that it won't be a problem, because it sounds like he's already leaving.]
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I understand that you may not have arrived with access to everything you can usually do, but information about any abilities you have would be useful. [They end the video and make their way to common room.]
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Are handshakes universal? He doesn't know.]
Angeal Hewley. How exhaustive a list do you need for capabilities?
-> Action
Avalon has what looks like a large marble out when they arrive, tiny streaks of teal swirling over its surface. As they close the door behind them, they drop the orb back into the small bag hanging from their belt.
They approach Angeal and shake his hand, their grip firm enough. “Avalon.” They pause for a moment, considering explaining their lack of a last name, but decide against it. “I would like to know what you can do with your current limitations, since I cannot remove any of them.”
prose time~
So far, nothing seems out of sorts with this stranger. They seemed reasonable enough, and if they didn't want to give him any other names, then that was their right. "As far as I can tell, only my stamina and resilience remain intact by way of enhancements, but the Admiral has done nothing to curb my training. I've been well versed in combat for many years and specialize in hand to hand fighting. There are few foes I've faced that I can't handle barehanded; I know as many nonlethal means of subduing opponents, human and otherwise."
Like so many in the Barge, likely. "Before arriving here I was a career SOLDIER. If there's a weapon analogous to what exists on my planet, then I'll likely know how to use it, possibly repair it." His smile is brief and humorless. "I'm not likely to use any of it on anyone without express invitation or being attacked."
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Their actual Warden item is clasped around their wrist and looks almost like a regular watch. The only difference is that, instead of a clock face, “Level 4 common room” is written on the bracelet’s panel.
“As I understand it, the Admiral can do nothing to curb your training. If you were to use it to harm someone, or if someone were to harm you, the consequences would be focused on physically preventing it from happening again.” They could make him unable to touch weapons, or make him intangible if he were to attack someone. His superhuman stamina and resilience could be removed if needed, but he does seem to be telling the truth about the likelihood of using his abilities for harm. He seems level-headed, and not in the emotionless way that Avalon was when they arrived.
“Would any of those enhancements have affected your mind?” In their world, almost every form of supernatural abilities also has negative effects on the person’s emotions. His world could have created something similar.
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His mind was absolutely affected until arriving here, but was it the SOLDIER process, or what was done to him at conception? "No," is the slow conclusion, which does imply something else did. "I don't think so. Most SOLDIERs never have any trouble at all, and those who might tend to get washed from the program before they're enhanced. A certain level of strength of will and mind is a requirement."
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If he asks, they might tell him. As far as they know, the items are neither a secret nor a regular topic of conversation.
Avalon picks up on the implication behind Angeal’s response, but his explanation seems to complicate it. “Did anything happen after you were enhanced?”
They should avoid digging too deeply into this, but they could be able to help. And without further explanation, they have no way of knowing if it would be their place to do so.
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And that, by tone and bearing, is very much uncomfortable to dwell on. "I've been cured of it, near as I can tell, but it's possible the process damaged my mind at the time as much as it did the others. I can't say in retrospect how many of my actions before I was killed were because of degrading or ... purely my own decisions. I've assumed til now that it was likely, and thus why I was offered this chance instead of simply forced to be here."
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They recognize his discomfort, even without trying to reach into his mind to feel it in more detail. “If you would like confirmation of being cured, I can ask the Admiral or someone in the infirmary. At least one of them should have the ability to check that.
“Being here as an inmate means that your decisions have hurt others, and you can change something about yourself in order to avoid going down the same path. I think that people who would recognize that are more likely to be given a choice. The same goes for people who would desire redemption of their own accord. Understanding that you need help is a good start.”
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The sort of thing a warden was for, weren't they? But maybe not, not when it's temporary. That'd be more of a burden than someone deserved.
He definitely hurt others, and for a moment there's a mix of pain and guilt on his face before it's buried beneath schooled neutrality save the pinch of furrowed brows. "I know what needs to change to make certain it never happens again," he says slowly, unsure that's something he really should be venturing at all, "But it's not something I have a say in."
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If he wants help with this, getting confirmation is the best starting point that they can think of. “The Admiral may be able to help you with contingency plans as well.” They could be promising too much, but they doubt the Admiral would be unable to do anything about it. And if he is unwilling to help, then that also gives them information. Even if this is only temporary, their job is to watch Angeal and help in any way they can.
They notice the shifts in his expression, their own remaining neutral. “What needs to change, and why do you not have a say in whether or not it does?” They believe that he believes he has no say in it, but if he knows what needs to change then he would not be here unless he could do something about it.
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Avalon's job is to help, and Angeal's not making it easier. He should probably stop dancing around it at some point. "Biology." It wasn't something he could change. "The Admiral's able to alter it here, obviously, which I am grateful for, but if it can be permanently removed then ... well, I might be living a lie but at least it's a safe one."
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“Whether the Admiral would be willing to help seems to depend on your situation. Something like permanently altering your DNA would require a deal.” Avalon reaches into their pocket, pulling out their orb. As they touch it, its surface shifts to a deep pine green, swirls of black twisting deeper inside it. “Something like this could be done with a request.
“I lack the ability to feel emotions the way humans do, and I spent most of my life thinking that I had no feelings at all. The physical and mental pieces of them are separate for me, like my mind and my body are disconnected. The reason I have the orb is because I asked my Warden if the Admiral could give me typical human emotions, and it was not something he could do. I may be able to use my deal to get emotions, but I could not simply request them.”
They put the orb away. “Whatever change you need to make to graduate will be more than altering your biology. I needed to learn why I had hurt others and how to make different choices. Developing the ability to recognize the emotions that I had helped me do that, but I still needed to make changes on my own. If you need an aid, that can be requested, but permanently altering your DNA would require a deal and learning how to avoid causing harm in the future is something that you need to do.”
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The ball makes a return, and when it's explained, the burly SOLDIER's brow furrows, perplexed. He's not stupid by any means, but this sort of thing isn't in his realm of experience. "...So what does it do, exactly? Does it let you feel things?"
He's still thinking of the ball when he considers the rest. "If it's not something I can hope for for now, then I'll worry about it later. So long as powers and abilities remain locked away, both I and everyone else are perfectly safe." Which is ... all he really needs.
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Talking about the deals has Avalon considering their own for a moment, but the thought gets pushed aside quickly. They have a general idea of what they want to ask for, and the details can wait.
“I have some emotions, but the pieces of them tend to happen separately. If I were to feel happiness, I might feel it mentally one time, but my body would feel neutral. The next time I felt it, I might feel nothing mentally, but my body would be activated.” Activation was what one of the library books had called it — intense or detached physical activation, and positive or negative emotional valence. “The orb changes color based on the emotions that match the components I might be feeling.
“Your permanent warden will know more about your situation and will be better equipped to ask for an aid if you need one. They can help you manage your abilities when you get them back.”
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He'd have to try to remember to focus on it when he next felt it, if he ever deserved it.
A permanent warden might be a ways away, he'd have to find out how they were picked so he'd have time to figure out what to address and what not to. "I'd rather not get them back if it's all the same." He's fine the way he is now. "..As a temporary warden, are you able to make any requests in my stead at all? I've a minor one I wouldn't mind having but it can wait."
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“It might be like feeling physically hungry, but not wanting food, or vice versa.” Shaw had described her emotions as being like hunger. “It became much easier once I understood it and knew to look for pieces rather than a whole.”
Rawne had been able to restrict their abilities before they were permanently paired, so, “I can make requests for you, but there are limits. I could be able to get you something from your world, depending on what it is. I would not be able to restore your abilities.”
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My name is Thrawn. I work alongside you on custodial duty. If you are interested, I have a one-day experiment for us. Should it succeed, it may reduce your workload there, in half the time. It may also - and this could be either a warning or an additional incentive - irritate Richter Belmont.
Are you interested?
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Given our situation I can't agree to anything without reading the fine print, but I'm willing to listen.
Not only the experiment, but it's goal.
Thank you.
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Richter believes that the most efficient use of his bloated team of fifteen inmates is to go floor by floor, every day, scrubbing everything down. When I told him this was ill-advised, he dismissed me as attempting to militarize the ship.
I am reaching out to all of us on custodial now. We pick one day in the near future - just one day - wherein all of us take a single floor. No top-down work, with the more difficult levels 1 and 2 being assigned more than one person.
He believes he knows the best way to conduct things but he misunderstands that we can accomplish the same goal in half the time and manpower.
Perhaps then half of us - the half that have been unwillingly drafted into it for fear of punishment rather than a genuine wish to serve - can be free to do as they like.
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I asked if the purpose was for punishment or for other purposes and was told it was in order to keep the ship clean. Given that purpose, would you agree this arrangement is somewhat slapdash and could use a more efficient method?
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I'm willing to assist in this demonstration, but will not push for further change if it's rejected. I'm a military man myself, and know the value of command structure even if the NCOs are idiots.
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Which military did you serve and at what rank, if I am permitted to know?
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Our structure seems different from most militaries I've read about since; I was a ground forces enlisted commander with the rank of First; we lead from the field. I believe an approximate equivalent to a corporal. Maybe.
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We are not yet a spacefaring planet, or i imagine being off world would also be in our wheelhouse.
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Audio, after pairings
[Avalon has no idea what to think of being paired with the same person twice in a row. The first time that had happened, Ruka had disappeared, but the second time, Rawne had become their permanent Warden. Perhaps the Admiral is watching either them or Angeal.]
You and I are paired again. What was the request that you wanted to make last time?
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They usually are, but there were a few times when I was paired with the same person more than once. One of those people became my permanent Warden.
I can request that, yes. [And they do.]
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[He should have checked in. Wasn't that how it was supposed to go?]
... Thank you. I suppose if it's allowed, I'll find out soon enough.
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Some people have a harder time with Breaches than others. [They should have checked in. They had done it with Root, after all, and they are responsible for Angela, not the other way around.] My job is not necessarily to get to know you, and you have no obligation to get to know me. This can be anything you want.
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“Angela”? Thanks autocorrect
Getting to know others is useful. [They do want to be more professional with their temporary inmates, but everyone here is still a person.] You are primarily my inmate, but I do want to get to know you personally.
Mine does that constantly.
[Should he be trying to set someone else's mind at ease? Or is that getting too pushy? He rubs the scruff of goatee briefly, thoughtful.]
Then next month when we're matched with someone else we still have a foundation. With the .. emotional disconnect you spoke of before, do you enjoy meals? Maybe I can make you something.
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I was both an inmate and a friend to my warden, so I should be able to navigate a relationship like that again. [They understand why Rawne had found it awkward, even if they are disconnected from the emotions behind it.]
I do enjoy food. My body can go without it, so enjoyment is its only purpose for me.
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[Food was a social bonding method the universe over!]
Do you have preferences? I'll see if Archer will let me go off menu a bit.
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[They may use it as a social bonding method, eventually.]
Pastries and soup are nice, but anything will do.
[If Angeal looks out the window, he will see that the view has been changed to the countryside from his world.]
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[But it'll be worth the added effort. Soup and pastries are also pretty broad, he'd have to take some guesses. Sweet, savory?
It isn't til he gets up to head to investigate what he might find that the change in the windows is noticed, to the forests and arched trees of Banora.]
..Huh. That didn't take long. Thank you.
[He sounds wistful. That's a view that doesn't exist anymore, elsewhere.]
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I tend to prefer sweet pastries. [The first time they had been to the dining hall, they had essentially hidden themself behind a pile of danishes and muffins.] Any kind of soup would be fine — I like it because of the warmth it provides, not the flavor. [Eating soup feels similar to affection, but the sensation of warmth in their chest is slightly stronger.]
The view is more like a video or photo than the real thing, [they clarify.] Actually expanding your cabin is not something that we can do before you graduate.
Text, after the Flood
There are some people offering forms of help that I may not be able to give, but do you need anything from me?
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The recent events were not pleasant, but not worse than was my primary line of work on my planet. I'll be alright.
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Soup would be nice. [Soup helps when humans are sick; it follows that it would help with their death toll. While they have come to prefer attempting to sleep through the first few days, they have more responsibilities now than they did before they graduated.] Would you like to come to my cabin?
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[Just because it was nearly routine for him, nothing that directly clawed at his own fears and doubts and guilts, didn't mean that was the same for everyone.]
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No, but thank you for offering. [Their own experiences had been different enough from reality so as to not affect them as much as they could have.]
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[And he will too - it means heading a bit early to the kitchens to make sure there's something fresh and hot to bring, but Angeal got along reasonably well with the Warden running the kitchens like his personal army.
And as he said he would, he turns up in early evening with a covered tray, and knocks on the door.]
->Action
*******
They sleep through the rest of the afternoon, dreamless and light enough for them to wake up when they hear the knock at the door. They spend a few moments making their bed, ignoring the pain in their chest and shoulder, then answer it.
“Were you injured at all during the Flood?” Their voice is rough, and they look more tired and pale than usual, but nothing else is obviously out of the ordinary.
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He himself looks and sounds almost completely normal. Most of the worst of it happened to other people, he was just .. an accessory. "It looks as if you could use more sleep. Did you speak to the medical staff?"
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They watch him blankly as he studies them, looking through him more than at him. “Good to know.” They move aside, letting him in and closing the door behind him. Unlike most others here, their cabin is the same size as it appears to be from the hallway, and could easily belong in a hotel.
“Someone killed me during the Flood,” they explain, gesturing for him to follow them. They have a coffee table in front of their window, big enough for two people. “Do you know what the death toll is yet?”
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Except someone killed Avalon. Wardens had their powers. Was it a monster, then? The tray and its covered bowl of soup is set carefully on the coffee table. At least there'll be no reason to get up and rummage around, he's also brought a spoon! "Are you intending to retaliate?"
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“Not exactly. It seems to be an unintended side effect of dying rather than an incentive to avoid it or a punishment for being too reckless.” The death toll is another limit of the Admiral’s power, just like the fact that they come back with their body in the same state as it was when they arrived on the Barge after going home.
Avalon uncovers the soup, somewhat surprised to see that Angeal only brought some for them. “The person who killed me was not herself during the Flood, and even if I blamed her completely … revenge is not something I often want.” They want to talk to Ilde, because they still like to leave things finished, but they see no reason to retaliate.
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The sigh that follows the decision to not go for revenge seems a little bit relieved. "Have to say I'm glad for that. In this place, retaliation doesn't seem much of a deterrent. It could escalate." The ongoing violent circle of tit for tat! "Does she know what she did, or was that.. not being herself also tampering with minds?"
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“My body is unused to needing rest.” Comas and death tolls are the only things that seem to cause them to need sleep. As far as they are concerned, being able to sleep through the worst of the death toll is useful.
Avalon takes a bite of the soup, focusing on the warmth it spreads through their chest. “She knows that she harmed people, which may or may not include the knowledge that she specifically killed me.”
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Well, you can take the SOLDIER out of duty but keeping him from wanting to do it is another matter. Avalon might be his warden, but somehow that meant to Angeal responsibility went the other way too. "..Are you .. capable of restful sleep, or is it a matter of waiting til the fatigue fades?"
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“I plan to let her to decide how she deals with it.” She did apologize on the Network, but Avalon decides not to say that so as to avoid revealing who it is. How she deals with the aftermath of the Flood is her decision. “She does not seem interesting in doing something like that again, so I see no reason to involve anyone else.”
They are beginning to understand why he seems to care about their wellbeing this much. After all, they had offered to help Rawne when they had been his inmate. “I tend to sleep through the first few days of the death toll, and it does seem to help.”
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That's reassuring. "Occasionally in situations like that, when the mind is altered.. there's not much that can be done to prevent it. And generally nobody wants it to happen again." But it still could. Accidents, even grisly ones, were still accidents. Angeal isn't going to go looking for vengeance in their stead.
He knows a bit too much about what happens when people lose their reason and choose violence. "Hm! Well, until you've recovered, if you need anything, let me know. Even if it's just tidying up a bit or bringing a meal or two. I don't mind a bit of exercise." It'll help him keep tabs on Avalon's wellbeing while he's at it.
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“The death toll usually lasts about a week, but the first few days are the most severe. After that, the only symptoms are phantom pains. I should be fine soon.” He seems level-headed enough not to take revenge for them, which is good. “Do you need anything?”
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Phantom pains and exhaustion, for someone who didn't really seem to sleep much, didn't sound like a pleasant time. "I'll bring some pastries up later on, see how you're doing." Not that he's going anywhere just yet, he has a bowl to bring back to the kitchens, and assure himself that Avalon is actually recovering, and not.. getting worse in some fashion he couldn't quite detect.
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Something in his expression makes Avalon wonder if he means it. “You can be functional without being fine,” they tell him. They had learned to differentiate the two when they were dealing with other people, and are still learning how to do it for themself.
“I would rather you not worry about me. I can take care of myself.” The death toll may not feel good, but they have a way of dealing with it. The soup might help, or they might learn of another symptom that they have not experienced yet. Either way, they can learn more about how to take care of themself. “I also think that the soup was enough food, but having a visitor later might be nice.”
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It was for him. For the forseeable future. He chuckles though, like it's not really that big of a problem. "No can do. Once I know someone, I worry about them. It's just how it is, the key is to not get too stressed out over it." The number one reason he looks much older than he is, constantly being concerned for everyone else.
And now that included Avalon. It didn't matter if they were only temporarily paired, Angeal was rather free with his concern about people. "Well, in that case I'll see about visiting more often.
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Their expression remains flat, but they do pause, trying to decide whether they should press further. While his mind is not entirely closed off to them, it is much quieter than those of some people here. His emotions are a blur, the same way Shaw’s had appeared on her orb: there may be something under the surface, but Avalon would need to fully connect with him in order to see it. And without a file, they have little context for anything that they might sense.
“I see.” That piece of information may not be relevant now, but it could be later. They have time to decide what to do with it. The idea of someone being concerned about them may never stop feeling foreign. As they get to know Angeal, it should begin to feel more natural, just as it had with Rawne.
They finish the soup, setting the bowl and spoon aside. “I would like to eventually visit your cabin. I should feel better in a few days, so I can come visit then.”
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It's going to be a disappointing sight though. Angeal's been given a very rustic environment. But it's comfortable. "I'll see about leaving some snacks just in case, and a deck of cards if you're into games."
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“I think you trust the people here more than I do.” They tend to let those they know into their cabin without much hesitation, but they would rather it not be open to everyone. That, and the fact that it would be irresponsible to let just anyone into their cabin now that they have weapons of their own. “In any case, if I visit, I would likely do it while you were there.”
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Death had no meaning. He had no objects of value here. What could anyone really do? "I'm sure there's people here with quite a collection of important things, or reasons for concern, but ... I can trust, because there's nothing anyone can do."
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“I lock my cabin because I keep weapons here, and I would not be doing my job if someone took them and used them to cause harm. Also, some people need to be denied access to things like that in order to learn.” Avalon had. The Barge had needed to strip their options away one by one before they considered a different path. “I was thinking that you might want to protect something that was important to you, but if not, then it makes sense to trust.”
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For a warden, not using a lock was probably the height of irresponsibility. "I... can't say I have anything important to me here, besides people. And I can't very well lock them up in my room." His tone turns that last part into a joke, he's certainly not even THINKING about it. "I suppose it's for the best. But I'll endeavor to be there when you turn up, either way."
Text!
Angeal. You were fond of plants weren't you?
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What are your thoughts on this plant being added to the Greenhouse?
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Still discussing the particulars. I just wanted to be sure I was reading the same thing. Have had some... interesting dialogue with the Greenhouse supervisors.
One was very... enthusiastic about tending that type of plant with minimal restrictions to its power.
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Is it being planned as a punishment for dangerous inmates?
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And... still working on that. I think she's reacting like most would for a normal animal. Not a fiend or monster.
[ It's text. How is the frustration bleeding through twelve point Courier New? Also... that's a new thing to worry about. He was concerned about the inmates that would mess with it. ]
I'd put a stop to it immediately if I found out that was the case.
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It's not your place to put a stop to it, but it would be your place to present the problem to the Admiral as an active and rather pointless hazard. I don't see any benefits to having something like that onboard without having its unusual traits harshly curbed. I know we can't die here but I'm not sure becoming a zombie counts as dying.
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Only speaking to Misty Quigley right now. Can't say for sure without seeing it, though I got the impression it's more like the offshoot of the plant reanimates the dead corpse.
[ Pedantic sounding, but may be relevant given returning to life when there's a corpse around seems to involve the corpse of the individual in question. So it might need to be freed of the parasite. ]
Right now doing damage control. Hoping she doesn't realize she could probably request this thing regardless of whether I want it for the alchemy or not. Still needs to be run by the Admiral.
I'll be sending my concerns to him and saying I'd prefer to stick with requesting the petals as a precaution though.
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Understand if I see something like that appear in the gardens it's going to go conspicuously missing.
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If she has her way, it won't be seen in the garden. She wants to keep it in her cabin. [ You know. Next to other cabins. ] So it will be more secure.
[ That plant is going to probably go missing one way or the other if it appears in an accessible place. Probably. ]
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At the same time I'd hate for this to get out of hand with rumors. Better less people know about this than more.
[ For at least three good reasons Vincent can think off offhand. One of them being that they don't need a lot of people panicking or getting paranoid about whether this plant is going to be on board when it hasn't even been decided if it will. ]
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If you need some measure of backup from another warden however, if someone's foolish enough to insist on having a zombie plant onboard, Archer is very no-nonsense.
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Better to be prepared one way or another.
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I'll stock up.
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Backwoods science classes have a use even now.
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[ Sir that phrasing suggested that the science included some poor animal. But yeah, that was probably extrapolated on in words and not test. Well, maybe some poor slugs suffered a cruel fate. Still. ]
Fairly sure it said undead. But can't hurt to try.
[ Can vinegar be blessed by a priest? Salts could in theory. ]
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Even undead can be pickled!
I felt it needed a wrapup somehow. c.c
If it manages to slip in and you can pickle it, let me know the results.
I should get back to work. I'll keep you posted.
extremely backdated to pairing day
"It seems we've been paired for the month."
Yes, good, getting right to the point.
"Is there anything I should know, or that you'd like to know about me?"
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Of all the Wardens to be paired with, Archer's not bad. He's used to the man's directions by now, and at least it wasn't guessing what a stranger was going to be like. "... Not really sure what you need to know. At this point I'm pretty certain I'm here because of forcing my protege to kill me, if that helps." That's only one part of it. There's so much else. "I admit I'm curious about you, but I'm not going to pry and damage a perfectly good working relationship over a temporary pairing."
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“I can imagine you had reasons for that.”
Archer also had reasons for wanting to reach an end, but he’s not going to pick at that right now.
“I won’t ask about that unless you want to talk about it. I’m not going to be offended by your questions, though, if there’s something you’ve been wanting to ask.”
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The impression he'd been left with was that temp Wardens were more or less tehre to keep someone out of trouble, not actually work on improvements. Angeal did not cause trouble most times. "...What's your background? Before this place. You run things like I'd expect someone of my line of work to, not a civilian."
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He was never paired with Florian temporarily, ironically, but they had gotten along very well beforehand. So he’s sure that factored into the Admiral’s decision there. Among other things.
“As for my background…that’s somewhat complicated. But you’re right - I’m not a civilian. I spent most of my youth in battles or war zones. Fighting, yes, but not under any one specific banner. If there was somewhere I thought could benefit from my skills, such as they were, that’s where I would go.”
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So far, two-zero on whether or not he'd been assigned someone he felt was reasonably acceptable to be around. Avalon was distant but ultimately seemed like a perfectly decent person, no clashes to really be had. None with Archer as yet either, Angeal knew better than to challenge a king in his kingdom. Especially over food. "What led you to choosing one side or another in such freelance work? Or were you more oriented to the populace?" Almost mercenary ... almost, except nothing had been said about a highest bidder. There might not be one.
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It’s happened before. And it’s his least favorite part of this job sometimes.
“And I made my decisions based on my own sense of justice. Or injustice, as the case might have been. I can’t give much in the way of specifics since that was such a long time ago, but I cared more about the result than anything I could get personally in return.”
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That's an interesting way to put what Archer was up to, and Angeal pauses, rolling it around in his mind. He remembered every major battle he'd been in, and Archer honestly didn't look THAT much older than he was. "I see. Better than going to the highest bidder, if you don't mind me saying so. How long ago was that? You can't be older than thirty, thirty five."
He has no idea how Servants work.
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"There are some things that happen on this ship - and off it - that none of us can predict. Though I do appreciate that."
To the other points, well...
"There were benefits and drawbacks. I did what I felt was right, but ultimately, that sort of lifestyle is confusing - and terrifying - even to the people you're trying to help. It's much easier to understand someone who has a price - especially when they have abilities that you don't."
The path of the superhero always leads to an unpleasant end.
"And appearances can be deceiving. I lived to be in my late 20's or early 30's - but it's quite impossible to measure the period of time that came after. Millenia, I would say, but I can only estimate."
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"...I can understand that one. But you did it anyway, that takes honor." People who would be afraid of something much stronger than them, and the mysteries of unknown motivations. As many people were afraid of SOLDIER as adored them, after all. One black eyebrow rises at the idea that he's possibly a thousand years old or more. "You don't look that old. Tell me your skin care routine."
He probably doesn't want to know Archer's skin care routine.
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He doesn't sound annoyed, but it's a very firm correction. The reason he'd thrown himself into conflicts was more foolish than simple adopting a set of principles. He just couldn't stand to see people sad. It was entirely childish and largely based in trauma he'd experienced early in life. A broken man striving to fix a world that was even more shattered than he'd ever been.
He doesn't see a reason to share any of that right now, but...maybe one day.
"As for my skin care routine," he says in a very matter of fact tone," I hope you believe in ghosts and spirits. Because that's essentially what I am."
Audio, backdated to the 10/29
Do you know which areas of the Barge need the most work, and do you need help doing repairs anywhere?
Sorry for delay, medical happened.
All good! I’ve been busy
[When they get the library in better shape, they plan to help Tendi in the kitchen, but they had thought Angeal was more involved there.]
Are you okay after everything? [Angeal had seemed interested in looking after them. They feel like they should return the favor.]
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I was also in a coma for some of our time on the Narrenschiff. The last thing I remember is talking to the Admiral when he contacted us.
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[Asking a warden that is reasonable. Asking his own ex warden that even moreso.]
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They seem trustworthy so far, but that may change when I learn more. [They had mostly kept to themself on the Narrenschiff, and had not interacted with many of the crew members.]
audio
[A pause.]
Probably less descriptive. Are you an angel?
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No, my mother was just a romantic. I must have missed the announcement; I'm Angeal Hewley, soldier by trade. What can I do for you?
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You been off the ship, or are you a homebody in ports?
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I like to see new planets if I can, though the ..last venture didn't quite go as planned, and I was dead to the world for everything after the ship flipped from the rogue wave. This one looks peaceful though, hoping to get in a bit of fishing.
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Tell you what. You come with me on a dumb magical boat trip to get healing water for the ship, and I'll go fishing with you. Deal?
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Meet me on the deck; I'll come up and take you down.
[She hasn't been back onboard the Barge since they docked, but she can make a brief (very brief) exception here.]
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[No reason to delay! There's worse ways to spend a port than doing a bit of sight seeing, and when Angeal turns up on deck, he's neatly dressed, clean, and ... significantly bigger than his new temporary warden. Supersoldiers.
But nothing of his bearing aside from his size and frame is particularly menacing, he seems rather placid all things considered. Maybe she'll get an easy month from at least one of her paired inmates.]
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Hewley?
[The man could just be a random person who happens to be coincidentally hanging out on the deck, but she's betting not.]
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As accused; you must be Shaw. Do you need anything before we head out? Weaponry, supplies?
[He's not allowed weapons! But she certainly should be, though by the way things looked over the rail of the ship, he doesn't expect it to be necessary.]
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Already packing. I'm set. Once we get the lay of the land, maybe we can see about getting this Dark Urge guy to come out with us.
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Haven't met him myself, but that's an ominous name to be going by in this kind of place. If it comes to it, which it ... shouldn't, the Admiral hasn't seen fit to rid me of my durability, if things go pear-shaped keep your distance and take advantage of that gun, I'll keep trouble distracted.
[Safety first!]
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Sounds like a plan, if you're game. I can fight hand-to-hand too, and I'll go for that as a first resort, but it's good to have back-up.
So what's your deal?
[She won't come right out and say it - at least not yet - but nothing about him has struck her as particularly inmate-y so far.]
tw: suicide by SOLDIER
[Alongside the possibility of violence from his fellow inmates; if Shaw's his warden for the month, then he'd have to keep tabs on her safety. It's only fair.
But the smell of the sea is pleasant, and the air is warm, and while he's keeping an eye out for problems he's also not expecting any by the general relaxed bearing he has.]
Forced my protégé to kill me when I started losing my mind.
[That's terribly blunt. And only part why he's here, but he hasn't figured that out yet.]
Might also be here for other work-related things, I'm not entirely sure what the Admiral's after yet.
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Can't blame you for wanting to die if you were losing yourself, especially if it would have made you a danger. Why'd you pick your protégé to do the job?
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I knew he'd be able to, if pushed hard enough. SOLDIERs of my rank are ... very hard to kill on a good day, and I knew I couldn't trust anyone else to actually do it.
[And he's well aware it was a bad decision; he's visibly uncomfortable with it.]
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
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[She glances over at him - seemingly unfazed by his discomfort, but not reveling in it, either.]
I'm not so good at spinning my wheels, and you don't seem like the type to keep me busy by going on massacres. So I'm thinking this month, we try to figure out at least some of the other reasons. Get a good list going for your next warden to dig their teeth into.
[Not, she notes sourly to herself, that she expects most wardens to bother to read the inmate ledger.]
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[A man who's been here for years, on this ship, and graduated more than one inmate.]
... Mm, that I can promise. Rampant murder for the sake of murder is ... [Dishonorable.] Unprofessional, at the least. I like to think I'm low maintenance, it'll give you more time to focus on that Dark Urge fellow if you need to. If we come up with anything else on the side that sounds fine.
[The boats to fetch water shouldn't be far, at least, less stable than the giant Barge but a fun challenge all its own.]
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[And she's not surprised at all by that connection - already, they remind her of each other. Finding out that Angeal is Zack's mentor feels like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
Coming up on the dock, she scans her eyes over the eclectic offerings, noting with distaste that none of them have motors. She wonders if that's standard, or if they're just unlucky. Going to stand next to a rowboat, she looks at Angeal, raising a questioning eyebrow.]
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[Saddling a warden with two inmates simply doubles their workload! How is that fair to anybody?
If all the motorboats were already taken that would be Angeal's luck. The rowboats are considered for a long moment, brow furrowing, before he simply shrugs and heads to climb into the nearest one with an ease that suggests it's not his first.]
Just tell me where we're headed, and I'll do the rowing. We have containers for this special water we're supposed to get?
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[She may be tiny, but she's stronger than she looks, and would rather work her muscles than not.]
Last boat I was in, there was a bag hanging off the side, but I'm not seeing one here. Maybe under the seat cushions.
[She climbs in to investigate, semi-reluctantly leaving the oars to him for now.]
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[He has designs on rowing in both directions. He's just not going to say so, he knows better.
The boat seems sturdy enough to do the job, so long as the weather didn't suddenly turn or anything, and as he settles into his chosen spot and picks up the oars, there's the matter of containers.]
..I could run back up to the deck, I think I saw a five gallon bucket.
[Bringing magical repair water in a five gallon home depot bucket is PERFECTLY REASONABLE. It'd be fewer trips!]
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Get two, if you can find them. Check the greenhouse.
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If he could figure out how to get an entire barrel out there he would, but the rowboats simply didn't look big enough to handle the weight.]
I'll see what I can find.
[So back out of the boat with Angeal, and back towards the other Boat. It's going to take him a few minutes, even at a jog, to find what he's looking for. At least it's a peaceful day?]
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Sorry, I took a minute to wash them. I don't know if magic water can be contaminated, better safe than sorry.
[He doesn't mind getting a little wet to get back onto the boat, it's a bit necessary with someone his weight standing on the part buried in the sand. But it won't take more than a bit of maneuvering at least to get them fully back in the water.]
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[Shaw will hop into the prow to help him get the buckets in, settling them on the floor between the two seats - and then handing the oars over to him only a little bit grudgingly.]
So you said you think you might be here for work-related stuff. Assassinations?
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But the smile fades. 'Work', such as it was..]
Not usually. I was more ... if my rank got called in it's because you needed the entire base razed, not because you need a single target eliminated. I'm not sure what the equivalent is in other militaries. My orders sometimes included ... non military targets.
[No surprise, there.]
At the time.. orders were orders, and we were there to try to make their lives better. The company did good. It brought health care, cheap electricity, roads, sanitation, better infrastructure.. but the cost was war. Over and over.
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Yeah, I did a lot of that too, once upon a time - following hard orders for the greater good. Were you good at it?
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[But the Planet was dying because of it all. That was too high a price to pay.]
I don't feel bad about most of what we did. I had my orders, I followed them, I pushed back when I felt it was too much. But maybe the Admiral doesn't agree.
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[Based on what she's seen on the Barge, she has what she feels is a pretty good guess as to which is more likely, but she's interested in hearing his thoughts.]
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[Makes sense to him, even if it's not why he's here at all. The rowing isn't any kind of a distraction but it's nice to have a simple physical goal: row.]
One of my close friends is here too but I'm getting the impression he's here for things that happened after my death, not before it, and he had the same orders I did. Sometimes refused them too.
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Cloud or Sephiroth? Or someone else?
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[Angeal trusts his judgment about people, it's never failed him before. If Cloud seemed like a good person, surely he was.
It's something to think about, while he rows.]
When I knew him, Sephiroth.. wasn't like how he is here. I suppose I'm partly to blame for that as well, but I'm not sure how to make up for it now.
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[She pauses, then thinks to add--]
He's not anything close to the worst of the worst. My guess, the guy you knew is still in there somewhere.
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[There is a moment where the metholodical rowing becomes harder, a focused drive of some unpleasant emotion or other, but as soon as he realizes it he readjusts.]
... But I hope so. He's here because someone thinks he can do better, and I know he can. He was a good man, not so long ago to my memory. Reliable, kind. Loyal.
[Lots of good things, lots of things that hurt to think about if he accepted he might have had a part in things going so badly.]
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[Shaw asks - studying him closely, noting the way he leans into the work.]
Zhao's a good guy. Dedicated.
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[And that's the truth, at least. If it wasn't one thing going pear shaped, it was another. Sometimes it felt like life on this ship was just moving from one headache to the next with no pause inbetween.]
How long have they been partnered? If it's been a while and progress isn't getting anywhere.. might not be ideal.
[Sometimes a good, trustworthy friend isn't what's needed to motivate - maybe that's why Angeal's not really gotten involved either. He was exactly the wrong person ot handle a friend's problems.]
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Wardening's annoyingly inefficient sometimes, especially when the inmate's especially smart, especially stubborn, or especially bad. Like I said, he doesn't seem like that last one to me, but smart and stubborn's a tough combination. Could be that progress is happening, but it's happening slowly. Or, uh, circuitously.
[The unpredictability of the Barge isn't always an asset.]
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[Obviously it works often enough that it's worth continuing. And it gave people like him another chance too, already pretty aware of what was wrong but not sure what to do about it.
There were worse topics for a boat ride across a foreign sea to who-knows-where to get special magic water.]
Especially with what seems awfully like monthly dips into trauma and suffering.
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[she says dryly, shooting him a fingergun.]
You get it. This place is weird all around, and I don't know what the Admiral was thinking when he set it up like this. Best answer I keep getting from people is that the chaos and confusion is a perk, but I don't buy it.
[She pauses, and then adds:]
Don't get me wrong; it could be a lot worse. If I were fundamentally opposed, I wouldn't be here. My objections are, I dunno, cosmetic.
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If I didn't think it had potential I wouldn't have agreed to come.
[How many inmates were there by choice? Angeal hadn't found another yet, though he knew they existed, he wasn't unique. But most had to be dragged kicking and screaming.]
Though there's been some history, I guess, with how the Admiral does things versus usual ships, and .. he's got a pretty good success rate? So there's got to be a method to the madness, we just can't see it because we're at the bottom of the well looking up.
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[Shaw mutters under her breath. Then, louder:]
It's not that I don't think people are right about the chaos being purposeful. I just think it's bull that it's worth it.
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[He hadn't been conscious for almost all of it.
There were regrets. Maybe he could have interfered. Prevented more destruction. For a moment, Angeal is quiet, thoughtful.]
What are you getting out of being here, Shaw? I was offered a chance to make things right. What were you offered?
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[Shaw says, reaching down to trail her fingers in the water that's just starting to show traces of glinting dawnlight.]
He told me I could have anything I wanted. And he came just a couple days after a good friend of mine had died.
[And even though he hadn't specifically said I can bring Root back for you, the implications, as far as Shaw is concerned, had been clear. He'd picked the time, the place, and the person for a reason, and despite her confusion and suspicion, she'd jumped at the chance.]
But then he brought her here as an inmate and negated any deal I could have made for her, so who the hell knows what he was thinking.
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[That's interesting. He hadn't really asked anyone what they were getting out of this, but Zack hadn't given him the impression that the Admiral was sneaky and backhanded about it.]
As far as I can tell, we're just put back where we were before, but alive again if we graduate. I guess that means you could just.. leave if you wanted, and not put up with any of it.
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[He certainly had paid attention, but that's not what this is about.]
If no time passes, then she'll be there when you get back, right?
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[She lifts her hand out of the water, examining the glowing drips as the light continues to slowly spread.]
I like the extra time with her, too. Especially since there's no guarantee she'll graduate and get out of here - people disappear sometimes.
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And then, the five gallon buckets. That this won't work at all will just have to be discovered the hard way.]
First time anyone's mentioned people disappearing. Just.. kicked right off?
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But she answers all the same.]
Yeah, just-- poof. If they're wardens, they're probably okay, living it up back home. If they're inmates, they're probably not.
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He doesn't speak immediately. There's certainly dark implication in inmates disappearing to who knew what fate, but...]
I am sorry if this is a rude question; Are you in possession of meta-human abilities?
[That's a sudden topic shift.]
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[ She looks down at the water, and it clicks; realizing why he must be asking, she adds-- ]
Oh. If you're getting some kinda brainwave transmission from me, it's the water. Some lame-ass magic this place has.
audio; post-pairings
[It's dry, but it's her baseline level of dry, rather than anything that hints at actual annoyance or displeasure.]
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[This is.. perfectly fine to him, post announcement.]
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[She pauses.]
I don't run out on people. And anyway, I like you. Can't risk leaving and you getting assigned to some do-nothing asshole.
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[Nobody minded when SOLDIER was handled by Lazard instead.]
... But seriously, Shaw. It might be a while otherwise, it's not running out if they're encouraging you to go. I won't keep pushing if you insist, I just don't want you thinking you have to do anything.
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[She might complain - sometimes loudly - but if she does something, it's because she's decided it's worth doing, for some reason or another.]
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[And he means it, too, there's nothing of sarcasm in his voice. People deserved good things in their life, and this ship might not necessarily be it.
He'd find his way sooner or later.]
So what changes, between temp and permanent?
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[There are of course things he wasn't certain he wanted played back and others knowing, but what harm could it do? The Admiral had neatly seen to making certain he couldn't harm anyone here, and that was surely enough.
It takes him a bit to get there, apparently he's picky about the snacks, but eventually! A knock. And Angeal, with a plate full of crackers, cheese, pepperonis and apple bits.]
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[Shaw deadpans, when she pulls open the door and sees the spread.]
Will Graham, eat your heart out. Come on in.
[She steps back to let him into the cabin: a small, single-room space with a kitchenette area, a little round table, a TV nook with a couch and a big dog bed, and a curtained sleeping loft. There's clearly been a good attempt at making it seem as homey as possible, with cozy furniture and funky decor (far more funky than Shaw's usual vibes), but underneath that, it's very industrial; the walls are cinderblock, and what flooring isn't covered by area rugs is bare cement.
The file is sitting open on the table.]
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[It's not going to be the only time he brings things, if she's not careful. Angeal has learned since childhood how important good food is .. and how often people neglect it. This is just snacks. It'll escalate.
Spotting a dog bed means looking for other signs of a dog, including an actual dog, but when one doesn't instantly turn up, it's ..almost disappointing. He likes dogs.]
If you give me a cheat sheet on what you like I can bring something nicer next time. Most people don't reject pepperoni and cheese though. Seemed a good bet.
[And there's the file. It looks innocent enough, even in a cabin that has a decorated cell vibe more than a home vibe. Was this what she was most comfortable with? The plate of snacks is set on the table by the file, he doesn't go for it yet.]
Find anything you've got questions about?
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[She says, popping a square of cheese into her mouth and dropping down into one of the chairs.]
Not much that can be answered by a Q&A, though. So why don't you read it through and let me know what you think.
[He knows his own life story, obviously: she's not imagining that anything in the file will be a surprise to him. But she's interested in seeing his reaction to it: to its phrasing, to its straightforward delivery, to the way particular events are described and interpreted.]
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This one's not by Shinra though, and after a moment he shrugs slightly and picks it up, settling carefully on one of the other chairs. And it's true. None of it's a surprise. But some of it is still hard to get through; none of it was really that long ago to him, and there's quickly a point where something like sad pensiveness settles in and then never leaves.
An impeccable record, if the bioengineering were left out, and if anyone ignored the last year. He could have been proud of it, once. Now?
The towering SOLDIER seems somehow diminished in his seat when he sets the file back down, voice subdued when he finally manages to say anything.]
Seems accurate. Mom and dad deserved better than being a footnote.
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[It's said with her typical subdued, blunt affect: not unsympathetic, not harsh or irritated or disappointed, but not exactly sympathetic, either.]
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[And while it obscures part of the reason of his unhappiness, that too is true. Losing a parent is hard to most people but the Hewleys had always been a small, tight knit family.]
There's a lot of things to regret. Don't think I can make any of it right anymore, most of the people are apparently long dead.
[But not all. Zack's here, but Zack is more willing to deal with him than he is Zack, that's just too much guilt.]
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[Shaw says this around a piece of pepperoni, but then stops, realizing that she probably shouldn't try to discuss Angeal's woes with her mouth full of deli meat. She finishes chewing, swallows, and then continues like a normal person.]
Yeah, you can't make stuff right with dead people, and that sucks. But here's a thing I noticed about what you just said: you can't make any of it right, because most of the people involved are dead. That sound rightheaded to you?
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If you have ideas for how to make it right, really right and not just lip service, please tell me how I make up for my best friend's mental degradation and forcing my protégé to kill me?
[There should be bitter sarcasm or anger or something there, but there isn't.]
I can apologize, and Zack would likely accept it, but that wouldn't make it real.
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[She wraps a piece of cheese in a pepperoni slice, downing it before continuing.]
What counts as "real" here, and how much have you, Zack, and Sephiroth talked about this? Either together or separately.
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[Even this, as uncomfortable as it is, is a convenient diversion, though he doesn't know it. This is, surely, the problem.]
Zack .. no. Not in so many words. He's been through enough, I don't want him feeling responsible for me too, and ... Sephiroth doesn't remember who I am.
[There's a bitter finality to that last, in voice and bearing. He can't make things right with someone who didn't even know who he was, never mind what he did.]
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[She mutters it under her breath, mostly to herself; she can't exactly tell him to break the news to Sephiroth without potentially causing fallout there, which means she needs to talk to Yunlan. Warden-warden politics: her least favorite thing.
Oh, well. At least Yunlan's not annoying.]
Saying it doesn't make what real? Lay it out - what specific thing do you think talking about it should do, but that you know that it won't?
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If I pick up a knife and stab you and then immediately apologize, it's not going to do much good is it? It's just words. If I meant it I wouldn't have stabbed you to begin with.
[Angeal, at least, doesn't seem to be the sort of inmate who feels the need to demonstrate this.]
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[She leans back in her chair, a thoughtful frown creasing her face a she crosses her arms over her abdomen.]
Tell you what. How about we leave the Sephiroth issue alone for now - though I'm gonna want to talk to his warden about it, and I want you to come along for at least one of those talks. But you should talk to Zack about it. Not an apology, a talk.
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Any apology would be hollow and he knows it.]
I hear Sephiroth's a project a few years in the making. It may be cruel for him to ever remember, and I don't know if the Admiral is merciful enough to spare him that.
[Not even from Angeal's own actions, though remembering your friends abandoned you would be difficult.]
... But maybe I can .. offer something that'll help his warden. I don't know what, but it's worth a try.
[Not for his own sake. He can acquiesce to that. Something that might actually help his lost friend could only be to the good, couldn't it?
Zack is harder, somehow. Zack remembered.]
It's been years for him, Shaw. If 'redemption' such as it is comes with the price of tearing open old wounds just to try to make myself feel better, then I'm not sure I'm interested. He deserves whatever peace he's found.
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[She pauses, letting that question hang for a moment before continuing.]
I'm not saying force the issue. If you approach him and he completely shuts you down, then sure, back off; we'll handle this another way. But if you haven't talked to him about this at all, then you don't have a clue whether you'd be tearing open old wounds and ruining his peace, or giving him closure and helping him find it.
[Another pause.]
This isn't about making you feel better. I mean, I don't get off on making you feel like crap; I'm not going for emotional torture. But I'm here to help you earn a second chance at life, not help you be comfortable - so if you're seriously worried I'm hoping for a feel-good approach that's supposed to make you feel all warm and fuzzy, then you don't have to worry about that.
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By now it's certain half the Barge is aware of exactly what kind of lengths Zack Fair will go to if he thinks something can be accomplished that's good, even if it's detrimental to himself.]
I'll think about it. With the ruckus lately timing's going to be difficult, and it seems for every nice quiet stop we get on this ship the next one's miserable.
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[She says it without hesitation. There is a but coming, though.]
Power struggles are pointless; I'm not gonna try to grab you by the ear and march you down to Zack's cabin. I'm gonna keep bugging you about it until you either find a good time for it or get sick of me asking about it, though.
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I'd like to see you try.
[It's not a threat, or bravado, or aggression, he probably means it; he's fought against and alongside all kinds of people, but his opportunities to tangle with people a fraction his size and weight were rare.]
But I'll get it done, when I know things aren't going to be another round of clawing through dark bloodsoaked foggy hallways or something soon.
[Eventually. If he says he will he will, but that doesn't mean he won't delay as long as he can.]
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[Because god knows she's going to keep reminding him about it until he does. Then she adds, also with no aggression or bravado--]
We should spar sometime.
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But he'll agree to it anyway, he does at least know it needs to be addressed. That will be a problem for Future Angeal, Now Angeal has other concerns, like not addressing the vast bulk of things the dossier outlined in favor of things he did know how to contend with.]
If you ask, the Admiral can remove the rest of my enhancements, right? My durability and stamina are still at SOLDIER levels, it won't be an even playing field if left that way.
[He's more than happy to spar! But when he can keep fighting for a few days straight without rest if necessary, it wouldn't exactly be fair as things are. Getting nerfed isn't even remotely a problem at least.]
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Please, I like a challenge. Knock me on my back first, and then we'll see if we want to even up the playing field. Deal?
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[That could be an innuendo if it were anyone else, but he seems to still very much be on topic.]
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You know who your supervisor's going to be yet? Better hope you don't get Belmont, that pain in the ass.
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[Hey he'll take what information he can get, he'd met the man exactly once right before the Narrenchiff debacle, and it didn't give him a good idea how that'd go.]
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He's an idiot, and he takes pride in doing as little wardening as possible - I don't know if that extends to the kitchens. He's... okay to get along with on an interpersonal level.
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[Wardens not doing their jobs.]
Why does the Admiral keep him onboard if he's not doing his job? I don't need a lot of guidance in the kitchen at least, just give me a list of what needs to be made and I'm usually good to go.
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[But then, so many of the Admiral's decisions don't make a lick of sense to her.]
He's not gonna give you crap or treat you badly, whether you end up with him as your supervisor or not.
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[..Right? Right? That's how this works, it's all purposeful even if he doesn't see the bigger picture..!]
I ran into him for a bit when we were on the cruise ship. Went swimming. He seemed alright, but I hadn't really approached it from a worker and boss kind of position. Guess I'll see how things go.
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One last thing. I'm, uh-- not great at talking about myself, and I'm a pretty simple person. But if there's anything you wanna know about me that you don't already, you can ask, and I'll probably answer. I also want to be up front about the fact that I have a personality disorder, and I don't do emotion well.
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You seem alright at it to me. You'd fit right in back home.
[She's more emotive than some!]
Maybe different worlds have different ideas of what's typical. I'm curious, about your line of work and what your world's like, the usuals, but I don't mind waiting. Or not finding out. Mysteries make the world go 'round.
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[The rest - most of the rest - isn't a secret, but she's happy to save it for another conversation.]
A text
A text
Re: A text
[ So that getting dressed is optional. Or at least 'going outside' dressed. ]
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text > action
[ He will probably appreciate that pants are not in fact optional. ]
It's not long before Vincent arrives. He's holding something tucked under one arm. It's making a few puzzled bleps of noise. But the cloak? Covering most of it is at first. Apparently it's something he feels he can speak to though.
"Still don't know what you're trying to say." It's been a bit of a long short walk from the Infirmary to Angeal's cabin.
There's going to be polite knocking involved here. Locked doors aside, there was a pants situation that might not be resolved.
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Vincent and his beeping captive are studied for a long moment. "I see. This can't wait. Come in."
And then he walks away, heading for a small dresser and beginning to rummage through the top drawer. He already knows Vincent will close the door, so theres' no point in saying so.
Well it isn't a grocery store
"Found it going through the ducts. You haven't seen this during your time in custodial, have you?"
Yup, that's allll he's here for. To check to see if it's a janitor droid. Nothing else. At all.
Or a fancy restaraunt.
It's just taking a bit of digging, his supply is dwindling. Eventually he comes up with another pair of googly eyes in amongst the other miscellaneous items he'd been picking up for a while now. Usually having a kitchen junk drawer is reserved for those who have a kitchen. "It's not one of the cruise ship's chorebots, the design is too primitive."
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Vincent territory. He didn't take kindly to unknowns. Probably just stuck his whole left arm in there and snagged it. Poor droid.
The droid seems to agree with this amorphous assessment of its fate, for it goes off in a string of what may be (is) a type of language.
"Mm. I've got two of them. Just wanted to verify that the new supervisor didn't set up something that she forgot to notify others about. Or that I missed it up til now."
Well, possible. There's been a lot going on these last few months.
<c.c>
The beeps .. don't sound like a recognizable language to him but it certainly seems feisty enough. "I don't think the new supervisor intends to do a lot. She seems the sort to stay hands off and hope for the best."
By Angeal's tone that could be a positive or a negative, he's carefully neutral. "Not sure she's got little bots like this on her world, she talks like most jobs are done by hand, you know?"
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And then he'll get to speak with Fred and Thrawn. ...At the very least there will be some assurance that the MSE-6 droid is not an immediate threat. Just an unreported addition to the maintenance procedures.
People really need to stop trying to give Vincent a heart attack. Really.
"...The front seems safe enough."
You know. Apropos of nothing other than the flat, slightly slanted surface of the droid's front seems free of sensors and may be a safe bet for important matters at hand. But there are a few other options.
Spam, early on in the Flood
Avalon pauses when they see Angeal in the hallway, looking through him more than at him for a moment. Their thoughts on him are more complicated now: the last time they were paired with someone more than once, it had become permanent, and they had almost been expecting that again. Angeal is also the reason that Shaw is still here, and they like that they have more time with her.
It makes no sense to say any of that, so instead they ask, “Do you need help staying warm? I can turn into an animal if you would rather not touch me as a person.”
HOLIDAYS HAPPENED i am sorry!
This is rather early, by his flawed estimates.
Avalon turning up in the hallway earns them an immediate smile. "I'm doing alright so far." But this in no way prevents him from opening his arms in a way very much suggestive that he wouldn't mind a hug anyway. "But no reason to take frosty chances. What species you are isn't really important, is it? I'm not contagious or anything."
Not right now.
All good!
Their expression remains blank when he smiles at them, but they do walk over and hug him. They go still once their arms are wrapped around him, their touch light. Their body is small and skinny and fragile next to his — they feel like he could break them if he wanted to, but they doubt he would. They relax into his touch once the cold dissipates.
“I guess not.” They might not know him particularly well, but they were mostly using animal forms for absolute strangers and Angeal does not fit that category.
They break the hug, then hesitate for a moment before: “Is ‘being contagious’ a problem in other contexts?” That was an interesting way of phrasing it, after talking about what species they were.
[audio]
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[Angeal sounds unruffled, so whatever it was can't be a big deal! right??
But there's a reason he's not going to turn on the video, and is glad it's only audio.]
He may just need time to unwind a little. Send a message in the morning perhaps.
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Disagreements. Nothing you need to worry about.
[And it is very, very deliberately that he changes the subject.]
Speaking of, you came up; how's things going with Sephiroth? Is he treating you nicer? Making dinner maybe?
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[And then Angeal veers wildly away from the subject, and Cloud gives his communicator a suspicious look. His tone is dry.]
I came up in a disagreement and you really think asking about my...social life's gonna stop me from asking more questions?
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[He sounds amused.
He isn't.]
-> action
[Cloud hangs up. But this is far from over. This is really not normal behavior for Zack. The only time Cloud can remember this kind of thing happening is...well, after Angeal died. Hmm.]
--
In a few minutes, Angeal's getting a knock on his cabin door.
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When it swings open, the cabin beyond is ... outright rustic. Might even be a bit nostalgic for Nibelheim save Banoran architecture had its own flavor of peasant. But there's no pets to take up comfortable corners, no-one else but the SOLDIER, who studies Cloud for a long blank moment before gesturing for the blond to enter. "None of this is a game. It never was."
The door is left open as he heads back inside to his stack of
stolenborrowed magazines. He hadn't been able to focus on any of them, but he can try. "Not sure why you kids always think everything not right what you want when you want it is a 'game'."Cloud's only two years younger than he is. Maybe three.
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"I'm not stupid and neither are you. You know exactly what I meant. And I'm 24." Technically 23 when he died, but he's had a birthday on board the Barge, so he's counting it.
He closes and locks the door behind him as he follows Angeal inside. "What happened with Zack?"
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Why Angeal's heading for a closet is by context, to fetch mead. But what is it doing in his closet? "I don't know how things are done in the future, Cloud, but in my time you don't spill another SOLDIER's guts when they're very obviously not interested in talking. You respect the distance they're asking for."
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His natural response is that he's fine standing, but he sighs quietly and takes a seat wherever Angeal indicates is best. It gives him a moment to look around with some curiosity at the ways Banoran houses both are and aren't reminiscent of his own childhood home. As for the mead-- "Sure."
It's closet mead, apparently. Maybe he's hiding it because he stole it from somewhere?
"That's not--mm. I didn't even know whether he was asking for that or not, he just... I wanted to make sure he was okay. And that he didn't...disappear."
Cloud's not sure what he would do if Zack just vanished off the Barge like Nico and Alan did.
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Only one is apparently worthy of being selected. "Far as I know he's still onboard. He says he's not leaving until Sephiroth graduates, seems reasonable he's going to do his best to hold to that. The Admiral's got a good Warden in him, and isn't going to cut him loose out of nowhere." He doesn't even have nice glasses to use, Cloud's handed what looks suspiciously like a glass canning jar, once it's filled with closet mead.
It should taste fine. A little bit fruity, one of the ongoing experiments is what tastes best when added in. "Zack's tough, and he knows to turn to his friends when he can't handle things. That he hasn't asked for you or returned calls just means he thinks he's doing alright on his own." Was that actually true these days? ... Maybe not, but he liked to think so.
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He takes the jar with no judgment, sniffs at the mead for a moment, and then takes a sip and nods appreciatively. He thinks Tifa would approve, and he thinks Tifa would have suggestions for how to make it better, too.
...he misses her. But it's best that he doesn't see her again until after he's graduated and made himself better.
He frowns and looks up. "Nico was a good warden too, and he didn't want to leave, but one day he was just...gone. Yunlan says it just happens, sometimes, and nobody knows why. Not even the Admiral." Of course, that's assuming the Admiral isn't lying about it, but whatever.
Cloud's pretty sure there's something off about what Angeal's saying, but he can't quite pinpoint what it is.
"Doesn't explain why he's that upset in the first place. Look, I'm not asking for every detail, but he's been upset before and it wasn't like this. He's never been a private person except when shit was really bad, or classified. And nothing's classified anymore here. If you don't want me hunting him down to ask him, then at least tell me something."
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And if it works its way into the Barge's other alcohol stashes, that's not Angeal's business.
Angeal is pretty sure the Admiral directly causes who leaves and stays, given the invitation he got, but he doesn't say so. "Maybe. But Zack's still here." That's an assumption but one he can reasonably make. Surely someone would have noticed. Would his comm have simply stopped working? Would his room have reverted, leaving his dog to wander lost through the halls?
With his own cup in hand, Angeal sits on a different careworn bit of furniture; it's not the most comfortable ever, but it's old and it's familiar. It could have been in his home growing up. And now it was only a reminder of the family he'd lost. He swirls the drink in his glass a little, frowning. "We don't see eye to eye on a few subjects, the most recent one being Sephiroth." It's true, at least. "Zack felt I should be more concerned about myself than my friends, even ... if they don't remember me. The last time I did that it ended in violence. I don't intend to walk the same path twice."
Except he is.
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Cloud lets out a quiet breath. If Angeal says Zack is still here, then he probably is. One less thing to worry about, at least.
He sips at his mead while Angeal talks, but he pauses when Sephiroth comes up. His brow furrows at the rest. Even if they don't remember me. When Cloud had finally remembered Zack, he'd felt awful about having forgotten him. ...a story he has yet to tell Angeal despite his intentions, he recalls, but now is definitely not the time.
"Well...Zack's a warden. Yunlan and my wardens have said the same thing, about focusing on myself instead of others. But that's impossible. Can't just sit around navel gazing when someone you care about's having trouble." He thinks for a moment. "Last time...when you left Shinra, you mean? But wasn't that for Genesis? ...is something wrong with Sephiroth? He seemed fine this morning."
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Cloud was on that list of people to worry about, whether he wanted to be or not. "While I left for Genesis it was also my hope to bring him back. I didn't intend to stay AWOL for long. And then ... things got out of hand. Although every SOLDIER is equal to a platoon of normal troops, we work best in groups. And Sephiroth, Genesis and I .. there wasn't much we couldn't accomplish together." Sure they were sent on separate missions all the time, but unified? "But we let our focus on ourselves blind us. And we went our separate ways, and we died. One by one."
He drains his glass in one long swig before setting it on the old wood magazine table. "I already know what focusing on myself gets."
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His eyes stay lowered and even move away slightly. Yeah, Sephiroth died. Cloud killed him. So that's...awkward.
He looks up again at the sound of Angeal putting down his glass. "Yeah, but you and Genesis were dealing with degradation then. You're not anymore here, so focusing on yourself at least enough to graduate shouldn't lead to anything too bad. Plus, you got a warden and a bunch of friends watching your back."
He sips his mead thoughtfully. "I don't get it. If there's nothing going on with Sephiroth, what did Zack disagree with you about?"
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Regardless of the fact that it was a fantastic way to dodge his own problems by focusing on others. Like Zack's disagreement. "...What to do going forward, mostly." That's a paraphrase and a half. It seemed Cloud and Sephiroth were well on their way to mending whatever animosity had been there after Nibelheim, it's just another thing too precious to risk destroying. "Shaw's taking the standard track of suggesting apologizing for wrongdoings as an early step, but of the two onboard I'd owe that, Sephiroth doesn't remember any of it. And forcing him to simply to say I'm sorry would be..." Pointlessly vicious. "Too high a cost."
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Cloud takes in the explanation about Sephiroth, deep in thought. "Nobody can force him to. He's the only one who should get to decide whether he remembers everything or not. Not even Yunlan should be making a call like that. But...sounds like Zack thinks he should. Still doesn't explain why that was so upsetting for him, though."
Then, a pause. "Of the two onboard. Is Zack the other one?"
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Why DID Zack retreat to silence and ignoring calls? It wasn't something as minor as that. He's surely faced people who've disagreed with him before, or outright fought with him before. "But I agree. It's Sephiroth's choice, and he doesn't want to." Torturing the good man he used to be wouldn't in any way be helpful.
So Angeal wasn't going to force it.
"As for the rest, it took a few months and cost two thirds of SOLDIER between Genesis and I." He studies Cloud, wondering how things would have gone for him if he'd tried to join at the RIGHT age and not much too early. "If he never told you about any of it, either back then or before I arrived here, that seems to be a pretty deliberate choice." Zack said nothing, even before worrying about Angeal hearing about it was an issue. "The things that happened there were not pleasant. I'm not sure I'm alright with you being able to spring it on him when he's made it clear he doesn't want you to know."
Can Cloud keep his mouth shut?
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Cloud nods to Angeal's agreement, but then he pauses. "I think...it's less that he doesn't want to, and more that he doesn't know whether he wants to or not. I get it. When you're not sure who you are, it's hard to know what to want." He speaks with confidence, as if he knows from experience. "But - you said I came up in that argument. How?"
He gives Angeal a hard look. "Why the hell would I ever do that to Zack? And who'd go out of their way to talk about something like that to anybody? You seriously think I'd ask about the worst shit he went through when I finally get to see him again after all that time thinking I never would?" Cloud shakes his head and stares into his half-finished glass of mead. "I'm just...trying to understand. I wanna help him. I tried, back then, but I couldn't. Couldn't...keep up. And all that shit was way above my pay grade, and by the time I learned anything it was too late. We were already in Nibelheim and Sephiroth was already holed up in the basement, Zack was already at the end of his rope, and there was nothing I could do."
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Sephiroth's not just an echo of someone gone. "Who he is now is making his own life. His own friends. His own dreams."
Without the past. Maybe the past wasn't necessary. "Not long after we first met there was an effect here that dredged up our fears, without our interest in having them displayed." Something in Angeal's bearing shifts, from concerned towards stern. "Do you think you'd have to go out of your way to gossip for ANYTHING to get around? That aside, do I think you're the kind of man who'd see a friend in distress and then try to talk to them about it?" Yep.
He spreads his hands at his sides, expression grim. "You're here aren't you? Specifically because you're concerned about Zack? Do you believe you'd still be here if he picked up your calls, or would you have gone there instead?"
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That stern tone in Angeal's voice makes Cloud's face fall, making him look even younger than he is for a moment. "Course I'd try to talk to him, if I could. But I wouldn't bring up anything he didn't bring up first."
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Remembering would take it all away, in one direction or another. He makes it sound reasonable. It isn't his problem, he's nobody's warden, he has no say in any of it.. but as a friend, he didn't want Sephiroth to suffer more. Let the crimes sit on the shoulders of the one who made them.
Maybe Wardens had a different perspective. Maybe they had to, because of their jobs. "..Of course you would. That's what you do, when you know a friend is upset."
But the problem goes back further than one argument over Sephiroth's fate. "But this ship doesn't seem much like it's interested in respecting people's privacy, from what I can tell."
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He goes quiet, thinking through everything Angeal's said. Was it a mistake for Cloud to remember who he'd been before? Hard to say. The situations aren't quite the same, of course, but they're similar enough that he's starting to think maybe this is the right time to tell Angeal the truth about himself, after all. Who knows, maybe it would help.
Who we are is in a lot of ways dictated by our memories. It shapes what we do, how we feel. Hoo boy, does Cloud know that.
"The question of Sephiroth's memories...what you're saying. I get it. Better than you think." He sits up straight again and pulls his feet up onto the cushion, wrapping his arms loosely around his knees. "I told you the story of what happened to me and Zack, back then, and what Sephiroth did in Nibelheim. But...there was more to it. You saw a piece of it, that...nightmare. Think this might be the time to tell you the rest, if you're up for it."
a tiny tag cuz it got lost
Willing is one thing. Feeling obligated is another.
all good!
Not something that would have occurred to Cloud a year ago, or even when he first arrived on the Barge.
"And...I'm sorry, that I acted like you owed me anything. You're right - if Zack wanted to share it with me, he would have."
We're friends, right?
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Except maybe this time it won't be necessary. The world doesn't have to come to the brink of ruin if Cloud and Sephiroth are both on the same page.
He doesn't refute the repetition; surely if Zack wanted it discussed he'd have discussed it. He didn't, therefore it was the way it was wanted. "... If you think it'll help you, then be my guest. We're all in this together."
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Cloud nods - they're all in this together. It's something he'd learned, and then something he forgot. But the Barge makes it a little easier to remember.
"Told you about the lab and the mako poisoning. How Zack passed everything on to me. But I was so messed up from the mako and Jenova that my mind was hanging by a thread. Wasn't until I ran into my friend Tifa in Midgar that I woke up for real. She kept asking me all these questions about where I'd been and what I'd been doing, and I couldn't remember. If I had, I think...I probably would've broken for good, remembering Zack's death and everything. So my subconscious and the Jenova cells rattling around in there protected me from those memories, and...filled in the gaps with Zack's instead. He told me I'd be his living legacy, and I was. In all the wrong ways."
He picks up his glass and finishes it all at once. His tone is a shade harder now, a shade more disgusted. "I forgot Zack ever existed. Remembered his life as a SOLDIER as my own, so I could play hero. Erased him just as much as Shinra's coverups did. He was my only friend, he died to protect me, and I just...forgot him."
Cloud has to pause here. There's more, of course - the part that's most relevant to the conversation they were having about Sephiroth - but this, this is the crux of what Cloud wanted Angeal to know. He couldn't let Zack's mentor keep thinking he was a real protege, when all he really was was a delusional wannabe.
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Of himself, of what he did to his own copies. Genesis, and his own. What happened to those involved in the project, and what he'd been able to piece together afterward.
After a long moment of quiet, where Cloud has time to ruminate on his own perceived sins, Angeal frowns faintly. "Cloud, I want to ask a question that might be uncomfortable. It's related to this."
There's a pattern here. "..Are you sure you're Sephiroth's copy, or is that just what you were told? I don't mean simply possessing Jenova cells and following the S-type protocols, that's a good quarter of SOLDIER."
dammit, this got lost in the deluge of breach stuff, sorry!
He shrugs. "Shoot."
At the question, he glances up at Angeal, lifting a brow. "I'm not his copy. I'm..." A pause, as he considers how to explain.
"Ever heard of the Reunion?"
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"Hey. Time for take two."
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When Shaw turns up suddenly it's easy to stop at least, and reorient on his Warden instead of the heavy bag, picking up a water bottle poached from the kitchens. "Yes ma'am. What do you want from me?"
Easy compliance, but that's nothing new. He had other ways of digging his heels in.
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Angeal doesn't sound like he has an opinion one way or another, it might just be a question. Finding a baseline.
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Angeal fights to maintain neutrality, it's a struggle, this is a sensitive subject to him. "In his place is what was left when he threw away twenty five years of memories. Memory makes us who we are, how we feel, what we do. Strip it away and you have only razor intellect and base instinct to draw upon, and his ... our base instinct is that of monsters. The man who took his place has come a long way, but he is not who he was before. This one has slaughtered thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, and had no remorse. He's improving, I am told. Forming friendships, forging a life for himself." Even if it's just in pursuit of Cloud, but that's .. not the best start, but it's a start.
"In what reality would it be anything but a vicious cruelty to kill the man who committed the horrific acts but is learning to overcome them by putting those memories back, and force the gentle man who he used to be suffer for someone else's crimes?" For all that Angeal's sense of honor and justice might not always rest on the same axis as other people's, it was still very much a strong force in his life; the idea of doing any such thing ground against it like a glacier against bedrock.
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"Okay, back up," she says slowly, once he's done. "Way back. You're calling the stuff you need to work on - the entire reason you're here - a tangent. You've gotta know how that sounds."
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Shaw crosses her arms over her chest, drumming her fingers against her forearms.
"Zack called me after you guys fought. I know you guys disagreed about Sephiroth. But not being on the same page about that isn't what pissed him off the most, and it's definitely not what hurt him."
What hurt him comes out with just a smidge of awkwardness - talking about feelings, even other people's feelings, isn't easy or natural for Shaw. Zack had certainly been hurt, though, so she powers through.
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He hadn't thought it was his fault until then. How could it have been? He was dead. Except Genesis hadn't been, therefore he might not have been either, and maybe they could have done something. It's reasonable actions, he can't hold himself accountable if he didn't even know the full breadth of things that had gone wrong.. and why they went wrong. "What conclusions was I supposed to draw from finding out all that follows is years of suffering and misery and death that I might have been able to prevent? That I should focus entirely on myself, something that caused it to begin with or that I need to STOP doing that?"
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She pauses, briefly.
"You don't have to focus entirely on yourself; the people who do that have their own issues, and most of them are inmates, too. I'm glad that you care about your friends. But you're not going to be able to do right by them if you can't look critically at the big-ass mistakes you've made."
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How much of that is true, and how much is just how he's chosen to interpret it, is up for debate - but he seems certain of it. "I know the 'big-ass mistakes' I've made, Shaw. I've never been under any illusions otherwise. Never claimed to be innocent." And yet it would happen again if things unfolded the same way a second time, that's certain.
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She pulls her communicator out of her pocket, wiggling it.
"-- that that really wasn't what pissed him off. So why don't I read you a little bit of what he said, and we talk about that."
Her eyes cut around the gym - not crowded, but not entirely empty, either.
"Uh, not here, though. I'm thinking somewhere more private; your call on where."
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Well actually it is just not in his, that's a Sephiroth thing, mostly used for tormenting Cloud. As Shaw looks around at the scattered inmates and wardens, he sighs again, more about the circumstances of gym than anything else, shoving himself to his feet. "Don't think anyone's going to care if they over hear, but the garden is usually empty this time of day. You can give me your 'good authority' as we go."
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"'It's just like before'," she recites from the screen. "'Him deciding to be a stupid fucking martyr without even bothering to ask how he can actually help'."
She lifts her gaze back to Angeal.
"I'm saying no matter how rational and well-intentioned you are, you're not infallible. You're not gonna be the best judge of how to fix your own mistakes, and considering your track record, you're sure as hell not in the best position to unilaterally decide how to help going forward. He's not pissed that you disagreed with him. He's pissed that if you care about his feelings and opinions at all - and I'm guessing you do - you sure as hell don't act like it."
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It forces him to review everything said that he could recall of his conversation with Zack, and by the fact that nothing like annoyance or resentment creeps in, he's not finding an explanation. "What," he says with slow carefulness of someone measuring their words and thoughts as they go, "Am I supposed to be asking for help on, exactly, when the subject is whether or not Sephiroth should regain his memories? How is it making me a martyr? How was I being a martyr before?"
Of course Zack's opinions and feelings matter, but how they applied to this, IF they applied to this ... seemed terribly off-base.
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Well, it did, but by then it was more an accusation than a discussion. There's no disparagement in his tone, either for himself or Zack; he knows his limitations. And Sephiroth absolutely is important to him even if it wasn't other people's priorities. "And maybe that's on me, because I chose to leave when it became obvious the discussion was going nowhere beneficial, for either of us."
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Shaw doesn't think Zack lied to her during his sum-up, and she doesn't think Angeal is lying to her now: but it's becoming clearer and clearer that their perceptions of the conversation had differed massively.
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"No," he concludes gradually, still ruminating. "Though he did say it wasn't just about Sephiroth, but about how he relates to others and the world around him, and that 'this', whatever it was meant to be, is what he thinks caused Modeoheim." It wasn't the same, at all. At least not to him. The circumstances were vastly different, and this had nothing to do with his then-wish to die. "It's .. some of the same people, in that it involves Zack and I. Sephiroth hadn't been there, and it ... had been selfish of me. Focused on myself." His fear. His worry about what would happen, and how fast it would happen.
Sephiroth had been left behind by all of them except Zack, and apparently that hadn't been enough. "If part of my graduation is making up for what I'd done, then I can't repeat that pattern. It's what caused this in the first place."
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She picks up her knife again, getting to work on another potato.
"Sounds to me like we need to focus on finding you a workable middle ground. Because from where I'm sitting, your problem isn't selfishness in the sense of only caring about yourself: it's that conviction that you have to carry all this on your own, and because you have to carry it on your own, you know best how to handle it. That's a different kind of self-focus."
Her cutting board is pretty full of diced potatoes by this point, so she slides them into the baking tray, then moves to continue chopping.
"When you decided you had to die, and you decided Zack had to be the one to take you out - why'd you do it the way you did? Was transforming just a foolproof way to force his hand, or did you think killing you in, uh, chimera form would be easier on him?"
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The pungent smell of onion marks any eyewatering going on as purely onion based; right now, this conversation, with someone as steady as Shaw, it's not enough to draw tears out of the man.
As for what he did.. "It seemed reasonable at the time."
The knife is waggled a little; his tone is sober for all that the answer seems frivolous at first blush. "Degradation ... eats away at your ability to make rational decisions, and you'll still be so certain what you're doing is the right thing to do even as you're ... mm, carving pieces of yourself out to feed to monsters. It all makes sense. Sounds right, feels right." The onion, chopped fine enough to pass, is dumped onto the potatos. He can get through this, it's just a discussion. "I know what I did then made perfect sense at the time. Zack would fight if he was forced to, even without ... that form. But he would hesitate to finish it; he still saw me as a human being, and I knew I was not. Becoming visibly what I already was would remove that hesitation."
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She's just guessing, here: it's not a question that she asked Zack. But from what he has said, and from how she knows he sees Angeal, she's pretty damn sure that he never saw Angeal as less than human no matter what form he took, and that hesitated as much and as long as he possibly could.
"Do you have any mental framework for not being human that doesn't come with, uh-- a value judgement? Not human, but also not an evil monster?"
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Egg. Baking powder. Guessing on amounts, but that was par the course for most of his recipes. "Like I said. At the time, it seemed sensible. I didn't say it seems sensible now."
Lesson learned: do it himself, coward. It's a value judgment he'd keep making, too. "...My file didn't go into what was happening to us enough if you're asking that question." Cheese. How much cheese is too much? "You have a pretty strong stomach, right? I can clarify."
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She pops a second half-dozen carton of eggs out of the fridge, just in case he wants to throw in a few more.
"My mental framework says that even if your decision-making takes a hit, as long as you have some ability to make choices, you have the ability to make better ones, even if it's harder for you than it is for other people."
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Angeal points one eggy, potato-and-cheese shredded finger at Shaw, expression dark, voice a low growl. It's not a sound that should come out of a human throat, turning his voice rough and grating, but there's stranger onboard this ship. "Sooner or later, you will be an unthinking creature of destruction, until something puts you out of your misery or you disintegrate. I watched it .. again and again and again. It isn't something you willpower your way out of. We are monsters, we are an infectious disease, and sooner or later instinct and nature would win, just like it did with ALL of our victims. My mistake wasn't in making sure I died before I stopped being able to think or could spread my cells any further, it was that I involved Zack. I should have killed Genesis myself and then seen to my own death without dragging him into it."
And. And maybe Sephiroth too. He didn't know if he had what it took to bring down Sephiroth. Maybe he would have died trying.
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"That sucks," she says, matter-of-factly. "It's a horrifying thing to have hanging over your head. But you aren't there yet. You still have control here, you still had some control at home, and you owe it to yourself and the people around you to keep using it well, the way you were trying to before you decided to have Zack take you out. You also have a hell of a lot more resources and options here than you did back there. You got any idea what Zack's deal is? I've never talked to him about it, but I'd put a lot of money on it being related to doing something to fix this mess."
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"It's irrelevant here, and the only reason I have an opportunity to change things. The Admiral's been gracious enough to put a stop to all of that while I'm onboard. Probably part of routine disarming of inmates. If I am sent back to the time I died even temporarily returned to health I should have time to ..do something." As fast as anger came on it ebbs by degrees; it's not an emotion that he can hold onto for long. Never could. "I don't know what any of Zack's deals were, but if any involved what we are and what happened to us, it didn't affect my fate any." Timelines may diverge, with the Admiral's interference. Whatever saving happened may have simply happened to another Angeal.
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"It colors how you think about yourself, your past, and your actions. And second of all - I'm using Zack as an example, not as, I dunno, some kind of catch-all solution. I'm not saying Zack's gonna fix everything, so don't even worry about it. I'm saying he's using this place as a resource, and you can, too."
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It absolutely colored things, but so did having that pressure stripped away. "Let's pretend I haven't been making use of anything here and have just been spinning wheels since I arrived." He crosses his arms over his chest, watching not Shaw but the oven. "What resources should I be making use of?"
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Though she thinks he probably has been spinning his wheels in a lot of ways, she's under no illusions that it's due to laziness or boredom. Guilt, self-loathing, and fear are heavy burdens, and the best way to keep them from consuming you is distraction, not inactivity.
"You work a lot, yeah?" She nods at the oven. "You're doing this in your off-time."
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Self-pity is pretty distinct from self-hatred, after all. She leans back against the counter, crossing her legs at the ankle as she studies him.
"A deal's the kind of thing that's far into the future. You could get one someday, and it could help you out in stopping the progression of this thing, but I'm not gonna ask you to depend on something that's twenty steps ahead of where you are right now. So I'm thinking, step one, we find you some super-powered babysitters - so that if we end up with a flood that lifts whatever the Admiral did that's stopped your infections in its tracks, there'll be people who can help rein you in and keep you contained, without you feeling like your only options are hurting people or dying. Back home, no one's immune. That's not going to be the case here."
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Deals would mean graduation and being a Warden and graduating his inmate - that's a long, long way away, assuming the Admiral even offered him the position. Counting on it was a bad idea, and so after a moment of consideration, it's put away. He's content with Zack's four - that's a grand track record. "If the Admiral for some reason lifts constraints, then 'contained' is the best possible option, not a babysitter. The true prisons down below cancel anything supernatural, don't they? If something happens, putting me there is for the best."
He probably won't even put up a fight! "Giving me a superpowered babysitter just risks having a superpowered second Angeal running around. Not really worth it, even if the Admiral can reverse the process."
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In truth, she can only think of one off the top of her head - but the Admiral nets enough powerful, invulnerable wardens that she's banking on there being a lot more.
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"You're HOPING they might be immune, you don't actually know, and I'm unwilling to find out the hard way if you're wrong. And even if they're immune, what about everyone else? You need to stop thinking about this as ... something contained to just me, something that can be mitigated with handcuffs or a single magical individual with take-down skills and a sleep spell. Unconstrained by the Admiral, I.. it's an infectious pathogen that has nothing to do with physics to begin with. Stop thinking 'person' and start thinking 'plague'."
Admittedly, blood borne and thus harder to pass on than a common cold; if Hollander could have found a way to turn him or Genesis into an airborne contagion surely he would have just to see what would happen. "Though frankly it's medical I should be discussing that with."
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A pause.
"You're not a pathogen. You're infected by a pathogen. And to get you to Zero - which is a good idea - we're going to need that immune person with takedown skills."
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The ovens door is opened slightly to check for color and signs of crispness. "If things progress at the same rate as before I should be reasonably clearheaded for at least a couple of weeks before the impulse gets too strong. I shouldn't need to be forced, just .. kept contained until restrictions resume. Treat me like a plague carrier until then. Those white head to toe suits, all of it."
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She shakes her head.
"Floods do all kinds of crazy things. There's no way we can mitigate every single bad thing this place could throw at us, but we can still try, and lining up some people willing and able to non-lethally get control of you is a part of that. I want you to be part of that conversation. And if you wanna do another meeting with medical, that sounds like a solid plan, too."
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He's seen a total of one flood directly, with the fog and rust and blood, and it had been .. singularly unpleasant, but Angeal had suffered no direct effects from it. The people around him though.. Cloud, and his pathetic, desperately needy copy.. the things in the dark.. "..If I do talk to someone in medical, and I don't mean you, I want it clean slate. Don't talk to them ahead of time. Preconceived notions can influence diagnostics; if you're told you're looking for a chicken you're not going to be keeping an eye out for chocobos."
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Public showers are fine, but physicals are apparently where he draws the line. "I'm sure afterward whoever I speak to will want to go over it all with you anyway."
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On the surface. He had zero intention of speaking to an actual doctor with an audience, at least not for the first discussion on it, but he could see the usefulness of it. Tendi's skills were ... thorough, but asking a friend for assistance would bring ethics into it wouldn't it? Doctors were supposed to avoid making patients of their friends and family.. "I'll send Tendi a message. We're.. on agreeable terms, but I'm not sure what her own ethics are about treating friends."
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He doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to say…but he also doesn’t feel like he can put this off any longer.
Because of that, sometime in the evening, he walks over to Angeal’s cabin…and knocks three times.
(Maybe he should have texted in advance, but part of him thinks he’ll just lose his nerve if he gives himself the space to.)
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It's an invitation enough.
Opening the door takes things immediately back to Banora, still. Even the 'windows' show a view of the landscape around that ruin of a town instead of the eerie space around the Barge. At some point perhaps it would be a good idea to change to something more modern but even six months in he still finds some comfort in the rustic and familiar.
There are six different very large glass jars of at least five gallons each sitting on the table, full of liquid in various shades of yellow, and Angeal himself, in nothing more than sweatpants and a teeshirt, frowning at them with a mason jar in hand as if they've done something to personally disappoint him.
Maybe they have.
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There’s no helping that, though, so he just…takes a deep breath and steadies himself.
“Hi.” Very smooth, Fair, very cool. “Should I, uh…come back later?”
He knows that frown.
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But he's here now, and he is not told to get out. "No."
He sounds displeased.
Maybe Zack SHOULD-- "I mislabeled one of my jars. It's been sitting much longer than I intended. It might be toxic levels of alcoholic now."
Well, not toxic to a SOLDIER, or someone who still had their durability, but anyone else? The jugs look reasonably similar to each other, in various stages of froth. Only two have no bubbles at all, maybe they're the culprits. "What can I do for you, Zack?"
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Because of that, Zack closes the door behind him but doesn’t really make a move to come very much farther in. Angeal is occupied, and he…doesn’t want to create more of a mess than he’s already made.
So…
“…I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”
He seems uncomfortable saying it - but not because he doesn’t mean it. Everything about this is just…hard.
“I didn’t mean for things to go off the rails like that, and I got mad instead of…actually saying the things I wanted to say.”
A pause. A breath.
“I know it probably didn’t sound like it last time, but…I am glad you’re here, and I’m…sorry. For all that.”
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But the jar is held out instead. "Tell me what you think."
Though he doesn't say which one it is, chances are astronomically high he wouldn't try to poison Zack on purpose. And indeed it just.. tastes like normal alcohol, perhaps with a fruitier edge than most meads have.
It is of course a distraction, as it means while Zack works on drink, he can work on a response. Something beyond kneejerk reaction, that might sound hollow and trite, nothing more than expected replies and nothing truly felt.
"I never really know what to say to that kind of thing." He doesn't have a kitchen to make use of, few if any inmates did, so the next mason jar he finds is just sitting on an end table. "'You're forgiven' always sounds terribly arrogant. 'You have nothing to apologize for' is ... dismissive. I never thought you were angry I was here. ...Hurt, maybe. After so many years having the reminder of it all shoved in your face couldn't be pleasant."
Like ripping open old wounds to bleed anew. "...But you're always forgiven, and you don't have anything to apologize for. I know I can be infuriating; I've made more than my share of mistakes, Gaia knows I have." The jar is rolled around in his hands, as if somewhere on its glass surface could be found all the answers he wanted.
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He moves up to take the jar, and after taking a taste, he says… “I think it’s definitely going to knock the socks off somebody.”
Tastes good, but…very strong!
As for the rest of it… He can’t help the way his insides twist listening to Angeal. Having Angeal show up again after years was… He had thought he was over it. That he had processed everything that had to do with it a while ago. And instead, he’d received the very rude awakening that, no - he just buried it. Because at the time, there wasn’t any other choice.
He doesn’t know how to convey all that without Angeal putting more blame on himself than he already is, and - he doesn’t want that. So there’s a pause as he…thinks about what to say.
“…it wasn’t just about you. The way I reacted. And that… The last thing I want is to…to say or do something that’s going to make it harder for you to leave here. I don’t…want to be a roadblock. I don’t.”
Because even after Angeal was gone, and even after what he’d done…Zack never stopped missing him.
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It doesn't need to be said that the weight of Modeoheim still hung heavy, like the metaphorical albatross around their necks.
"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one making it harder for me to leave," he says quietly, putting the jar down finally. "There's this ... gulf of years between us I don't know how to bridge. Just yesterday you were this fresh, eager boy ready to take on the world, and suddenly you're a man grown, with so much time and so much suffering in between. I've contributed to it, even if I never wanted to hurt you."
More than he'd like to think. More than he wanted to dwell on - not just the impact immediate of his own death, but the ripple effects it had later. How much could he have prevented, or changed?
Angeal's sorry too - but apologies.. would be hollow in the face of what he'd done. There was no walking it back, not really. "But there is a point.. where if you have an abscess, no matter how much it hurts, it needs to be opened and it needs to be drained or it'll never heal. There's a lot I probably don't wanna hear, but I still probably need to. What .. had you wanted to say? What was it really about?"
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He takes another sip of the mead (why not, he’s not getting drunk off it) and…gathers his thoughts.
“I’ve had…a lot of time. To think about how things happened. With you and Sephiroth and Genesis. And the only reason I really wanted to tell you about Nibelheim…was because I wanted you to understand the conclusion I ended up at. After thinking about it for a long time.”
He takes a breath…and goes on.
“I fought all three of you. Not because I wanted to - but because none of you gave me a choice. And that happened…because all three of you decided the same thing. That you weren’t human anymore. That you were…monsters. And as a result…you decided to die. Genesis decided to take the company with him. And Sephiroth…he decided everything needed to burn.”
All three chose the path of destruction. In differing degrees, of course, but the result was a dead end.
“I’m not saying that to say I don’t…understand why. I do. I know. It’s why even after…even after our fight, I couldn’t hold a grudge or…or hate you. For any of it.”
He saw what the degradation did to Genesis, to the copies. He knows Angeal had engineered his own way out to avoid that fate.
“We can’t take any of it back. That’s not going to happen. But the point of this place isn’t to…to take things back. It’s…it’s to figure out how to move forward. And I told Sephiroth here a long time ago that…until he was willing to choose a different way - a way that wasn’t constantly trying to threaten or inflict pain on people…nothing was going to change. This place is…designed to make certain things possible that wouldn’t be back home. So until you can…you can reckon with that idea. And find a way to reach a different conclusion about yourself…we’re going to end up where we were before. And that…”
Zack looks down and blinks. Several times.
“Now that you’re here, I don’t…I don’t want to lose you again.”
It hurt so much the first time, and he really can’t bear the idea of losing Angeal again.
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He doesn't say so. It wouldn't help. Especially not in the face of the rest.
The purpose of this place made losing him inevitable, whether he spent months or years. Sooner or later he'd graduate, or be otherwise removed from the ship, and chances were good they wouldn't wind up on the same planet afterward, in the same time.
When all was said and done, even with the best possible outcome, Angeal would inevitably hurt him again. He would leave. And this time his absence would be permanent. Had accepting the Admiral's offer been the wrong choice?
Images blur, as he studies Zack. The boy he was and the man he is overlap in distortion, the years between one and the other erased enough where for a moment he could fool himself into thinking no time had passed and it was the same stricken face that watched him on the ground, trying to muster the strength to lift the Buster Sword by its hilt one last time.
The cabin's small. Inmates don't get larger accommodations unless they're far bigger than even he is, but it doesn't take much to cross the few steps between and reach a calloused hand out for one shoulder, as careful as ever but grip warm. Consolation? Commiseration? "...I'm sorry, Zack."
It's meaningless, with nothing to back it up.
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In the end, though, he knows he can’t do anything to convince Angeal of that. He never could. And it was the same with all three of them. It didn’t matter what he said or did, or how much he begged them…they chose their paths and wouldn’t be moved from them.
It’s why he can’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he just feels the composure he does have crumble under the light weight of the other’s hand.
Words fail. He puts the jar down, and that’s the only warning Angeal’s going to get before a teary-eyed Zack hurls himself at him. For a long-overdue hug.
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That's why he's here at all. The lifestream had been willing to take him, he'd felt no suffering, no pain, only the welcoming pull of knowing his mother and father were waiting, but there were things.. he couldn't let go of. And a part of that was definitely Zack.
Maybe one of the biggest parts. Death being irrevocable meant he couldn't do anything about it then, and he could make some measure of peace with it, especially with the fog of degradation making it seem like just the right decision.
Even without that regret he wouldn't have pushed Zack away. He catches the only marginally smaller man easily (and will never admit the half-step back is from a lack of power these days), and maybe it was a long overdue hug, because he's also not letting go any time soon. Even if his grip is tight, he doesn't have the strength thanks to the Admiral to make it painful, not to a SOLDIER.
Genesis was gone. Sephiroth was gone, the man he is now a stranger in his skin.
Zack's still here.
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He knows things can't be like they were. Too much has happened, and like Angeal said before, there's a gulf of years and experiences between them. Zack is never going to be that energetic, undisciplined teenager again...and they're never going to have the same relationship they had in SOLDIER.
But that...it doesn't matter. Because Zack knows the reason why he was able to hold the line. To remain strong even when it seemed like the entire world was crumbling all around him.
It's because of this man. His mentor. His friend. His...family. And whatever sins Angeal had to his name didn't change that immutable fact.
So Zack holds him tight for as long as Angeal with allow. And even though there are tears and quiet sobs...he's relieved. He's happy. He knows they're in for a bumpy ride, of course...but just having this opportunity is more than he ever dared to hope for.
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And he's the cause, this time. Zack had always bounced back quickly. A less than flawless mission, training that wasn't going as expected, trouble with one thing or another ... but those were different.
Minor. The worries of a child. He could fool himself, if he closed his eyes and disregarded where they were, think that time had somehow turned back and something not-him had gone terribly wrong. But those days were past. It takes a while before Angeal says anything, waiting until tears begin to run out, waiting until he can trust his own voice to be reasonably calm and steady.
It takes time. "Are you going to be alright?"
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It does feel strange being a Warden with Angeal being the Inmate, but... It feels like...they really can get through it. Maybe not for a while - but he believes it'll happen.
The tears do finally run dry, and Zack...pulls back a little. There's a sheepish expression on his face, but...he seems lighter than before.
"Uh...yeah."
A good cry is healthy! He needed it!
"I, uh...sorry. About the mess."
He's pretty sure he got Angeal's shirt all wet.
"...thank you."
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Things should have never happened this way. Zack shouldn't have been forced to do the things he'd had to do, and he knew it, no matter how sensible it had seemed at the time. Any meeting here should have been on different terms. But should have beens don't affect what actually happened, and Angeal is reluctant to let go.
He will, but it doesn't mean he wants to. "Don't worry about it, I get messier in the kitchens." A little tears and sogginess are really not a big deal versus what he's capable of coming home with after dinner rush.
"...Zack. I may regret the things I did, and I think I always will. But I want to be clear." He never quite edges into stern, it's not about that, but there's a certain firmness to his tone anyway - this is important to him. "I have never once regretted you. You were always the right choice."
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That's right. Vincent Valentine is getting hugged. By the sunshiniest man on the planet.]
audio; soon after Vincent's post
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Uninjured. Kind of functional. You need me somewhere?
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Someone's on a murder bender. I'm heading out to help with the search.
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When it's somebody who's been here a while - it's usually because they're pissed off, and they aren't thinking about the long-term; they just want to make people hurt.
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[It's hard to survive getting hoisted up on a hook.]
Check in with Valentine for intel, then come with me; we can watch each other's backs.
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What were your favorite and least favorite things about working for Shinra? I'm thinking one of each, but if you've got more, hit me with 'em.
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This time of day, midweek, that's heading for the library; he's no doctor and knows BEANS about a lot of doctor things, but trying to get better educated about virology can only help. Having Shaw turn up seemingly out of nowhere as he heads for the endless towering shelves is not alarming; somewhere on the way she'd shifted rather permanently from stranger to Not.
The question however is a bit of a surprise.]
Hm. I liked that we were helping people. A lot of what we did was straight up good for folks. Getting rid of marauding monsters, helping on dangerous cleanup or even sometimes construction that could make use of our strength.
[He's thoughtful; this isn't something that's come up much.]
Can't say I cared much for the Wutai war though. If Wutai didn't want cheap power and modern convenience, that was their right. Forcing it on them.. that's a lot of dead people just to bring sanitation and medicine to the survivors.
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[She doesn't respond immediately, which is common for her - a lot of talking isn't a big strength of hers, no matter how much she's come to see the value of it in wardening. She runs her fingers along a row of book spines, the way someone would if they were searching the stacks, but her eyes are still on Angeal.]
Sounds a little like... I haven't told you about Samaritan, have I.
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Starting simple is important.]
Nope. I .. haven't thought it really a good idea to be prying, you know? A good way to sour relationships sometimes.
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[She says, lightly.]
I suck at personal chit-chat, so it's probably the only way you're going to get much intel on me. But, uh-- Samaritan. You know what artificial superintelligences are?
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[He's gotten better at that; Shaw was easier than most people in that respect. What she said and what she meant were pretty much the same.
Unlike a lot of others.]
I know what normal AI is, so I can guess what a super-intelligence is, but no firsthand experience. When it comes to machines, is that human level or beyond it?
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[She scans the titles of the books in the stack she's carrying, then preemptively pulls down another virology book for him, adding it to his pile.]
People build them, so in theory, people control them.
[That "in theory" is carrying a lot of weight right now, though.]
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Gonna guess it didn't stay under control. A hyperintelligent AI's gonna be able to out think its control programming pretty quick, I imagine.
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[She pulls another virology book of the shelf, but upon closer inspection, this one seems to be solely about disease transmission in an alien species that she's never even heard of, let alone seen on the Barge. She slides it back into place.]
Turns out that those methods weren't so different from Shinra's. Your whole thing kinda reminds me of an unholy cross between Samaritan's idea of a new world order, and the work I used to do for the government.
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[Maybe he should consider some self-help books on gaining a better science education before jumping right into the fine mechanics of things. As it is this might take a long time, especially given the realities the likes of Tendi are from are FAR more advanced than anything he understands.
But he's got something to work with. Alien xenoplagues!
It's a work of science fiction. He hasn't noticed yet.]
I feel like something like that might decide eradicating mankind is the quickest way to ensuring planetary survival.
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We never let it get far enough to find out whether it would do more harm or more good - we took it out before it amassed that much power.
[She jerks her chin at the book in his hands.]
You looking at fiction too?
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How hard is something like that to ferret out of a modern infrastructure without tearing yourselves back into pre-industrial civilization?
[The book is weighed, but only in a distracted sort of way, the possibilities of such an artificial intelligence and what it could do has a way of grabbing the imagination.
After a moment, he shakes his head.]
No, ideally just science. I don't know a damn thing about any of this, fiction would just muddy the ..
[Hnm, that's not a dewey decimal sticker on the side.]
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We got lucky. For one thing, we got in on the fight early on; it wasn't anywhere near as entrenched as the AI system last month.
[the SOPHIA system from the breach, she means.]
And for another thing - we had a different AI on our side. One that was just as smart and just as powerful, but that respected human autonomy above everything else.
audio - some nebulous time after the breach
Hey, Angeal. You got a minute? Got something I want to tell you. Figured it's the kind of thing you'd want to know.
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Sure, what's up Cloud?
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That's what the Enclosure's for. But I got a feeling Aerith will have plenty of suggestions.
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You didn't ask, but I'm gonna give you some advice anyway, alright?
[He sounds utterly serious.]
Take it slow. For both your sakes. You have a chance to build something really lasting if you're so inclined, and a slipshod rush job can have serious consequences later. Take your time, and find out what you both like, and what you don't like, together and apart. You got all the time in the world here, and that's a precious opportunity. And...
[Hesitation.]
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[And Cloud listens carefully to the advice. He has a few questions about what Angeal's said, but he's going to hold off until he knows the man is finished.]
And...?
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[The hesitation is there still, but he's plowing on anyway!! Is this a good idea? Is any of it a good idea?]
If you think this is the man you want to build a life with ... then you're going to have to teach him how to live. Really live, have a dream and reach for it with all he has. There's so much wonder and joy to be found in the world and he's lost touch with that.. except for you, maybe. And if he can find that in you, then you can help him find it in everything else. I'm not sure anyone else can, anymore.
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Build a life with, huh? Angeal's not the first to pose the question that way, although Zack didn't put it in quite those terms. Cloud told Zack yes, he could see a way forward with the person Sephiroth is now, and that hasn't changed. He knows there are important questions they'll need to answer once they've both graduated - once they both have lives to build - but he feels pretty confident that he's not going to change his mind. Frankly, he has a hard time imagining a life without Sephiroth in it.
Maybe that's part of why he felt so unsatisfied, so listless, after Meteorfall was over and the rebuilding began. Even when Sephiroth was the enemy...he was always there.
Angeal's words resonate with thoughts Cloud's had before. It's why he asked the Admiral for something Sephiroth had always wanted, back during the holidays. It's why he took Sephiroth riding with him for their first actual date. And it's why he keeps hounding Sephiroth about having opinions of his own, wanting things for himself.
And more selfishly...Sephiroth is the only one who makes Cloud feel truly wanted. Needed. If he can do what Angeal's describing, help Sephiroth find wonder and joy and dreams again, live up to the way Sephiroth sees him - then he wants to, more than anything. He wants to be worthy of the limitless trust that Sephiroth seems to put in him like no one else does anymore.]
...I will. I've been trying, but the Barge is... [A pause.] No. No buts. I'll try harder. As hard as I can. I'm not going to let Sephiroth down. I promise.
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[Sephiroth isn't the kind of person to casually date. If he's chosen to invest himself, and was ANYTHING like the man he used to be, then he was going to be planning long term.
Longer than the Barge.
But it isn't .. just about Sephiroth. He's observed Cloud for a while too, and it wasn't hard to tell that the blond needed SOMETHING in his life.. 'meaning' was perhaps too trite, but everyone needed a focus, and he didn't seem to have one. That this focus is the man who ruined his life was ..well, strange, but love worked in strange ways.]
Don't forget this is about you too. What you want, your happiness. I'm hoping that you'll have some things in common on that angle and can enjoy them together. But if you start sacrificing just because you care about someone .. you're gonna wind up unhappy. And that's how relationships end.
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[It's not a joke, but it's not overly serious, either.
Cloud takes a moment to consider what Angeal's said.]
Right. I wouldn't worry too much about me - Sephiroth's determined to focus on what I want no matter what I say, because he doesn't think he wants anything. I know he's wrong, and I'll prove it to him. But - thanks, Angeal. I'll keep it in mind, too.
text
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My good friend back home invented a process by which to preserve them for transport elsewhere but I'm not that kind of clever, I'm afraid.
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Leave it on the tree until we need it, got it - I'll tell the Greenhouse staff, too. We wouldn't want to lose a crop to a simple mistake like that.
Well, we have some pretty clever people on board. Honestly, it wouldn't be a bad idea to work on ways to preserve food, period, given that we can run into unexpected shortages. Especially these days.
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Banora didn't really have much of a winter, so no dormancy.
Especially after what we saw on the Narrenchiff, yeah? I'd be happy to help in any way I can. Know plenty about preserving stuff the old fashioned way, if I can get my hands on a pressure cooker.
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That's the most recent example, yes, but not the only one. But that's good to know, too - I know a little, but we never really had an overabundance of food to actually practice on, growing up. Would you be willing to show me, if we can find one to work with?
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I'd be happy to show you what I know. Nothing brings people together like good food. What's your name? I'm helping with breakfast this week but that means I've got all afternoon free; I'll bother Archer about if there's pressure cookers around.
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I'm Steve - Steve Rogers. I actually work the dinner shift, I just never thought to look for any pressure cookers. I guess I'm used to doing things the old-fashioned way.
Archer definitely knows more about the kitchen and what it has than just about anybody I can think of, though.
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I'll see if he knows where I can get the right kind. Ideally with the little jiggly top. If Archer doesn't know, it's not on board.
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That sounds good, though - let me know if he can't find something, and I guess we'll see what else we can manage. Or keep an eye out during the next port that's likely to have cooking appliances.
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If we're lucky one will be coming up. There's a few things I'd like to scavenge for at a yard sale. Do we ever make ports at anywhere ordinary?
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Of course, meat was expensive so we didn't have a lot of that anyway.
We have, yeah. Sometimes it's even Earth - although if you're not from there, I guess that doesn't really matter, does it.
It feels like it's been a while since we've landed someplace where we can get more than the very basics, though - hopefully we're due.
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Nope, not from Earth! But ordinary is ordinary, whether it's labeled Earth or Gaia. I like to think some things are universal, like yard sales and pressure cookers.
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[That does make him laugh, even though it can't come through over text.]
Isn't that the truth. It's nice to find things that seem to be universal truths, though. People are always people, no matter where they're from, I think.
Voice
Sephiroth directed me to talk to you about something, if you're okay with it.
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He said that I can ask you about his past experiences on romance and friendship?
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I, erm. I can't say I know anything of the exploits of the man he is today, but as I understand it, he's in a relationship with someone currently! I'm .. hm, I honestly don't know if anyone qualifies currently as what he might call a friend in the way I'd usually define it.
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He's very prickly and cute.
[She was very fond as she said it.]
But- we're you, by definition, friends with him in the past? If you don't mind me asking.
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Prickly, huh?
[Not to him! Not yet!]
...I was, yes. For many years. He was and always will be very important to me, even if he doesn't remember it himself.
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Then again, he's shy.
[Maybe Angeal has a shortcut to getting a soft Cloud? Who knows!]
You and Sephiroth...did you grow up together? Would you mind- what was he like?
He didn't seem to understand romantic relationships currently.
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[Maybe it'd even help. Once upon a time he'd have been relentless in doing just that, but then..]
We met when we were teenagers, and were friends, I think, until my death. The man he was then is not the man he is now, and it's unwise to pursue it too closely. He deserves a life as he is, without being haunted by a past he won't enjoy.
[Which is putting it MILDLY, after the things Shinra had done.]
But I'm afraid to say he hadn't exactly had a lot of romance beforehand either! So that's one similarity. He just.. wasn't interested. Women and men would certainly throw themselves at him, but none of them ever caught his interest. Shinra would arrange 'dates' to look good for photo ops, but that's about it.
[He hums thoughtfully.]
I guess it's why I'm so thrilled he's interested in Cloud. First person he's ever been keen on romantically, I think.
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[Some of the pieces are slipping in. She listens quietly. Aren't they all haunted by their past. She's here to help him with his future at least.]
And I was worried for him- and for Cloud. Sephiroth mentioned that he used Cloud as a tether, spiritually back home.
And while I'm glad that they're happy...
I do wonder if this could be a problem- for both of them.
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And also not doing well as he's pretending. I don't know if you know this but...when I met him, he was having catatonic spells.
Yes, it was the Amnesia potion that triggered it, but a lot of people who underwent it functioned normally after.
That's really, really bad.
He doesn't know I'm a doctor, and I weirded him out but...I really just hope he and Sephiroth will be...okay.
First love or forever love or puppy love.
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[Angeal spent years around adolescent SOLDIERs, his sense of what is normal is badly warped.]
The... catatonia spells aren't really a surprise, if it's any reassurance. It's not my medical history to tell, but as long as he keeps pulling back out of them, it should be alright.
[He sounds extremely confident in that. But explaining why.. not as likely.]
His closeness with his friends will help if it happens again.
[By degrees his tone turns thoughtful.]
Is this really about Sephiroth's experience, or are you worried about someone, anyone taking advantage of Cloud? Maybe even someone he likes?
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[Like a hot sauce challenge or cliff diving or something.]
Angeal...I'm not going to ask his medical history. Or his story. But the fact is...depending on what's up, he might not one day.
I'd hate it if someone felt they had to give him mercy. He seems...decent. But if his friends can pull him back- all the better.
...you know...it could be a little of both. And I'm worried about Sephiroth not being able to handle...well, if things go badly, one way or another with Cloud.
Not because Cloud can't handle it. The reason I was asking about his romantic experience is that- well.
I was a bit of a late bloomer myself, romance-wise. And I know, for me? Rejection, fights, all of it can wreck you if you never learned how to handle it.
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So he'd be about right then, somewhere between adult and teenager..? I can't judge based on what other worlds are like, I admit.
[There's a lot he could say. That it's a miracle Cloud can string two words together. That it's possible he'll relapse and never come out of it at all, thanks to it being a miracle he ever did in the first place.
What he thinks about Sephiroth's views on Cloud. What he thinks will happen if things go badly.
He doesn't. Though the rest of the reply takes a while to come up with, implying he's at least thinking about a lot of SOMETHING.]
I think it'd always wreck someone.. and the first can be hardest. But I can say with certainty that if Sephiroth is anything like he used to be, then Cloud is never going to be safer than when Sephiroth is with him. His loyalty, once given, was absolute.
[The sound of a slow exhale, almost a sigh.]
All his life he's been expected to fight and kill when told to. He was very good at it. But now, this place has given him something to protect for the first time. I think it'll do him good. Maybe even be the key to getting off the ship.
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[She chuckles quietly. She'd only worry more for Cloud if she knew how vulnerable he had been the past few years.
She's quiet for a minute or two, thinking of what Angeal said.]
A killing tool, huh. And one likely fawned over in the public eye, touched and expected to be little more than a doll, perhaps.
[She hums.]
I appreciate your candor, especially since this came out of nowhere. Thank you Angeal. I hope...him making the choice will make a difference for him, in the long run.
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[..Is she? He doesn't know.]
Cloud's a good guy. I know he is. And Sephiroth ... used to be. One of the best. I'm a little biased in hoping maybe Cloud can bring the best out in him again.
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[Her voice is light and playful, before her tone sombers.]
Cloud seems like a good kid. Just confused sometimes. Sephiroth...well. I think he could be, if he wanted to try.
I might just bother Sephiroth, if only because I like his energy. Sometimes, it's nice to be around someone with his kind of...low keyness.
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[Not that kind of a relationship.. but one that should have lasted a lifetime anyway. He sounds cheerful enough about it.
But Genesis is gone, and Sephiroth doesn't remember. It's shaken off quickly before it can become melancholy.]
I don't think Seph's had a reason, since coming here, to bother to try. He's got a reason now. We all need something to motivate us, you know? I'll be rooting for both of them, either way. If nothing else comes out of his boat trip, maybe at the end of it they'll still have that.
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[If one of them was Sephiroth and it was romantic...well, she's going to be good and not picture that.
Right now.]
You mean for Cloud? Mm, maybe. If Cloud nudged him along, because...Sephy seems not exactly comfortable but kind of...
Apathic maybe? Or comfortable. It seems easier for him to not try.
Which is why I'm planning to bug him.
We could do it together if you like! I'm planning to read to him. Any suggestions?
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[And he'd botched it. All of it. Was it really just the degradation, or his own flaws?]
I think Cloud can goad him into doing things. And it might do Cloud some good too, he needs some confidence.
[.......]
Actually, yes. See if you can find the G edition of an epic poem named Loveless.
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[Love was love, and it sounds bittersweet on Angeal's side. But...who knows. And maybe Angeal could find other kinds of love, given the chance.]
If Cloud didn't think I was so batty, maybe I'd nudge him. Eh. Maybe I'll see if he can adjust to me, then I'll nudge.
...Loveless? You think they have that in the library?
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I've found pretty much EVERYTHING is in the library if you look hard enough.
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But...sure. I'll look for it. See what happens.
audio | backdated to the start of the port
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[ You know, that place most of the Barge is from. ]
Do you wanna go with me and look around?
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[It's the funniest thing he'd heard of in a long time, and apparently still finds funny, by the low rumble of laughter. A chair scrapes.]
Sure, why not. I've got permission to disembark, but I'm not putting on anything fancy.
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[ Aaaaand his smile brightens even though Angeal can't see it. ]
Great! I'm off the ship already, but I can meet you where we get off.
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[Look he'll wear comfortable clothes everywhere else but boots are a necessity, he's stepped on too many nails and kicked too many rocks to EVER go without a good pair if he can avoid it.
And he does turn up eventually, in utterly ordinary teeshirt and jeans, fairly standard for when he's not in uniform even in their own world. Here, it'll blend in just fine, heavy combat boots and all.
Later on he'll head out with Shaw, she needed some rest and relaxation too and he would FIND a way to make sure she got some, but until then.. sightseeing!]
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He smiles when he sees Angeal. ]
So it looks like we landed in the middle of some kind of festival? Or something?
There’s other ships, too.
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If either of them get any looks it's probably going to be because they are considerably more fit than most people attending Stockwood.]
Music thing, I heard. But the venue really doesn't look like any kind of concert I've ever been to. Ships like ours or just.. travelling folks?
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Uhh, I’m not sure. I haven’t asked yet, but we could probably ask some questions. Most of the people here seem pretty chill.
[ A pause, then- ]
It seems less like a concert and more like…I dunno, a block party? Only…bigger?
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[He's content with that. Blatant eavesdropping, seeing what people are doing. There's no need to rush, surely. There's time to slow down a little and take their time getting questions answered.
Maybe enjoy some music.]
Can't say I've ever been to a block party, so this should be new all around. Let me know if you spot anyone selling carrot fritters.
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[ There's other stuff to comment on, but he gets held up by one item in particular: ]
Carrot fritters? That's a thing?
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[A perfectly good street snack as far as Angeal is concerned.]
I'm pretty sure you can make fritters from just about anything.
text; a little backdated!
I'm not going to pretend it's glamorous or exciting, but let's play pest control
[This is her assuming that he's been out enough to notice the problem on his own; if he hasn't, then, well. What a wild message to receive without the proper context, huh?]
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And then a text arrives.]
How many exactly are there that pest control is needed? Should I go looking for bug spray or will a rolled up newspaper work.
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some guy's powers are out of wack
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Most other cleaners too for that matter. Are the spiders venomous do you know? Should I get gloves?
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Sounds good, let me get some things. Where do you want me?
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[But he's going to be squishing as he goes. And spraying; he's not kidding about ordinary cleaners doing a remarkable job on the things, and the faint smell of bleach precedes his appearance like a chemical shroud.]
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My warden item doesn't give me access to the custodial stuff, so this is from my cabin.
[She lifts her spray bottle, wiggling it.]
Right now the custodial crew's just, uh-- Rovia and another woman, I think. Don't know her name, but I'd recognize her if I saw her; we'll see if we can waylay one of them.
day 1 of the flood!
Without bothering to change out of the tank top and sweatpants that she'd slept in, she slips on some shoes and heads down from Level 1.
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She's not going to be there this early, it's not her day. Tendi might be, and that's just as good, isn't it? But even heading in the right direction seems to ease some of the wholly unwelcome feeling a little; Shaw will eventually be headed down, but Angeal's headed up, the infirmary - and her cabin - are both a few floors higher.
It's like playing Hot and Cold with his own dizziness, sticking close to walls in case the feeling suddenly gets worse. By the time he actually reaches level 2, she might well be arriving at about the same time.
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"You gotta be kidding me."
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Enforced closeness is not part of it. He rather liked that the Admiral seemed to be content to let people do whatever they want whenever they want, and this did not qualify. As Shaw arrives, and relief from the worst of the flulike misery washes over him, he reaches .. possibly the same conclusion about the same time she does.
And puts it to the test by closing the rest of the gap, at least until comfortable conversation distance. There's still a personal bubble which must be minded, and he's keeping track of feeling versus proximity as he does it. "... Aren't we a bit early for the usual monthly shenanigans? That'd make it some passenger, wouldn't it?"
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Without consciously thinking about it, she takes a step forward, closing the already-short distance between them by another few feet.
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Maybe she is. A perk of being one of the ship's medics? Or something else? "It's getting better though. Are you running a temperature?" Angeal will immediately stop if there's a protest but it's almost automatic to reach just a little bit further to test her forehead the way his parents did to him countless times throughout his life. "I know where Vincent keeps all the fever reducers."
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The sick feeling is gone - evaporated into thin air, just like that. Not even a trace of it remains; she feels completely normal.
"There's no way we can do this for a whole week," she says, even though she's absolutely positive that that is exactly what they're going to have to do.
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Oh. A week. She catches onto it a little sooner than he does. Angeal's expression shifts slowly from surprise to consternation, as the implication of what's going on finally actually sinks in. "Think it'll last a week? Depends on what's causing it."
The ship, or someone on the ship - sometimes all it took was finding the right inmate and tossing them in Zero. "...We should.. probably find out exactly how bad this is."
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"This feels like the Admiral's doing. Forcing wardens and inmates to stick close? That's an on-the-nose enforced bonding experience if I've ever heard one. Somebody's powers running amok would've, I dunno, forced us to slaughter each other or something."
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And then a bit more shuffling to find out where, exactly, is tolerable without being in direct contact. "I'm not sure that's actually going to be effective, but aliens don't necessarily see things the way we do." The Admiral was, distinctly, alien.
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"I can handle a lot," she says, frowning down at her feet. "But, uh, I hate to say it - I think we should be crippling ourselves as little as possible here."
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Tolerable is still much closer than most people were comfortable with. A week would be... irritating, but not much more than that if they were careful about distances, based on his rough estimate. This was going to take planning around.
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"Okay." She angles her head towards the far end of the hallway that she'd come from. "Let's see how it holds up through walls and doors, then. My cabin's right down there."
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But it's best to find out. Since Shaw's one of the medical personnel on the ship, there are things he simply can't be there for if it comes up; he'd be in the way, and privacy is a thing for any medical profession. He's minding the distance between them when he heads for Shaw's quarters though, there's no need to test how miserable it is on the way there too.
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With a defeated sigh, she reaches out and curls her fingers loosely around his forearm.